ROBERT  HARDY'S 

SEVEN  DAYS 


CHARLES  A\.  SHELDON 


^ROBERT  MARDVS 
SEVEN  DAYS 


PHILADELPHIA 
1F.NRY  ALTENUS  COMPANY 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days, 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  was  Sunday  night,  and  Robert  Hardy  had 
just  come  home  from  the  evening  service  in 
the  church  at  Barton.  He  was  not  in  the  habit 
of  attending  the  evening  service,  but  something 
said  by  his  minister  in  the  morning  had  im- 
pelled him  to  go  out.  The  evening  had  been  a 
little  unpleasant  and  a  slight  snow  was  falling, 
and  his  wife  had  excused  herself  from  going  to 
church  on  that  account.  Mr.  Hardy  came  homo 
cross  and  fault-finding. 

"Catch  me  going  to  evening  service  again! 
Only  fifty  people  out,  and  it  was  a  sheer  waste 
of  fuel  and  light.  The  sermon  was  one  of  the 
dullest  I  ever  heard.  I  believe  Mr.  Jones  is 
growing  too  old  for  our  church.  We  need  a 
young  man,  more  up  with  the  times.  He  is 
everlastingly  harping  on  the  necessity  of  doing 
what  we  can  in  the  present  to  save  souls.  To 
hear  him  talk  you  would  think  every  man  who 

2132SG2 


6  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

wasn't  running  round  to  save  souls  every  win- 
ter was  a  robber  and  an  enemy  of  society.  He 
is  getting  off,  too,  on  this  new-fangled  Christian 
Sociology,  and  thinks  the  rich  men  are  oppress- 
ing the  poor,  and  that  church  members  ought 
to  study  and  follow  more  closely  the  teachings 
of  Christ  and  be  more  brotherly  and  neighborly 
to  their  fellow-men.  Bah!  I  am  sick  of  the 
whole  subject  of  humanity.  I  shall  withdraw 
my  pledge  to  the  salary  if  the  present  style  of 
preaching  continues." 

"What  vas  the  text  of  the  sermon  to-night  ?" 
asked  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"Oh,  I  don't  remember  exactly!  Something 
about  'this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  demanded,' 
or  words  like  that.  I  don't  believe  in  this  at- 
tempt to  scare  folks  into  heaven." 

"It  would  take  a  good  many  sermons  to  scare 
you,  Eobert." 

"Yes,  more  than  two  a  week,"  replied  Mr. 
Hardy  with  a  dry  laugh.  He  drew  off  his  over- 
coat and  threw  himself  down  on  the  lounge  in 
front  of  the  open  fire.  "Where  are  the  girls  ?" 

"Alice  is  upstairs  reading  the  morning  paper. 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  7 

Clara    and    Bess    went    over    to    call    on    the 
Caxtons." 

"How  did  they  happen  to  go  over  there?" 
Mrs.    Hardy    hesitated.      Finally    she    said, 
'•James  came  over  and  invited  them." 

"And  they  know  I  have  forbidden  them  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  the  Caxtons !  When 
they  come  in,  I  will  let  them  know  I  mean  what 
I  say.  It  is  very  strange  the  girls  do  not  ap- 
pear to  understand  that." 

Mr.  Hardy  rose  from  the  lounge  and  walked 
across  the  room,  then  came  back  and  lay  down 
again,  and  from  his  recumbent  position  poked 
the  fire  savagely  with  the  shovel.  Mrs.  Hardy 
bit  her  lips  and  seemed  on  the  point  of  reply- 
ing but  said  nothing.  At  last  Mr.  Hardy 
asked: 

"Where  are  the  boys?" 

"Will  is  getting  out  his  lessons  for  to-morrow 
up  in  his  room.  George  went  out  about  eight 
o'clock.  He  didn't  say  where  he  was  going." 

"It's  a  nice  family.  Is  there  one  night  in  the 
year, Mary,  when  all  our  children  are  at  home?" 

"Almost  as  many  as  there  are  when  you  are 


8  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

at  home!"  retorted  Mrs.  Hardy.  "What  with 
your  club  and  your  lodge  and  your  scientific 
society  and  your  reading  circle  and  your  direc- 
tors' meeting,  the  children  see  about  as  much 
of  you  as  you  do  of  them.  How  many  nights 
in  a  week  do  you  give  to  us,  Eobert?  Do  you 
think  it  is  strange  that  the  children  go  outside 
for  their  amusements?  Our  home — "  Mrs. 
Hardy  paused  and  looked  around  at  the  costly 
interior  of  the  room  where  the  two  were — "our 
home  is  well  furnished  with  everything  but  our 
own  children!" 

The  man  on  the  lounge  was  silent.  He  felt 
the  sharpness  of  the  thrust  made  by  his  wife 
and  knew  it  was  too  true  to  be  denied.  But 
Mr.  Hardy  was,  above  all  things  else,  selfish. 
He  had  not  the  remotest  intention  of  giving  up 
his  club  or  his  scientific  society  or  his  frequent 
cozy  dinners  with  business  men  down  town,  be- 
cause his  wife  spent  so  many  lonely,  deserted 
evenings  at  home  and  that  his  children  were 
almost  strangers  to  him.  But  it  annoyed  him. 
as  a  respectable  citizen,  to  have  his  children 
making  acquaintances  that  he  did  not  approve 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  0 

and  it  grated  on  his  old-fashioned,  inherited 
New  England  ideas  that  his  boys  and  girls 
should  be  away  from  home  so  often  in  the  even- 
ing, and  especially  on  Sunday  evening.  The 
maxim  of  Robert  Hardy's  life  was,  "Self-inter- 
est first."  As  long  as  he  was  not  thwarted  in 
his  own  pleasures  he  was  as  good-natured  as  the 
average  man.  He  provided  liberally  for  the 
household  expenses,  and  his  wife  and  children 
were  supplied  with  money  and  travel  as  they 
requested  it.  But  the  minute  he  was  crossed  m 
his  own  plans  or  anyone  demanded  of  him  a 
service  that  compelled  some  self-denial,  he  bo- 
came  hard,  ill-natured  and  haughty.  He  had 
been  a  member  of  the  church  at  Barton  for 
twenty  years;  one  of  the  trustees  and  a  liberal 
giver.  He  prided  himself  on  that  fact.  But  so 
far  as  giving  any  of  his  time  or  personal  service 
was  concerned,  he  would  as  soon  have  thought 
of  giving  all  his  property  away  to  the  first  poor 
man  he  met.  His  minister  had,  this  last  week, 
written  him  an  earnest,  warm-hearted  letter, 
expressing  much  pleasure  at  the  service  he  had 
rendered  so  many  years  as  a  trustee,  and  asking 


10  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

him  if  he  would  not  come  to  the  Thursday 
evening  meeting  that  week  and  take  some  part, 
whatever  he  chose,  to  help  along.  It  was  a  sea- 
son of  anxious  interest  among  many  in  the 
church,  and  the  pastor  earnestly  desired  the 
presence  and  help  of  all  the  members.  Eobert 
had  read  the  letter  through  hastily  and  smiled 
a  little  scornfully.  What!  He  take  part  in  a 
prayer  meeting!  He  couldn't  remember  when 
he  had  attended  one.  They  were  too  dull  for 
him.  He  wondered  at  Mr.  Jones  for  writing 
such  a  letter,  and  almost  felt  as  if  he  had  been 
impertinent.  He  threw  the  letter  in  the  waste- 
basket  and  did  not  even  answer  it.  He  would 
Dot  have  been  guilty  of  such  a  lack  of  courtesy 
in  a  business  letter  received,  but  a  letter  from 
his  minister  was  another  thing.  The  idea  of 
replying  to  a  letter  from  him  never  occurred  to 
Mr.  Hardy.  And  when  Thursday  night  came, 
he  went  down  to  a  meeting  of  the  Chess  Club 
and  had  a  good  time  with  his  favorite  game. 
For  he  was  a  line  player,  and  was  engaged  in  a 
series  of  games  which  were  being  played  for  the 
State  championship.  The  superintendent  of 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  11 

the  Sunday-school  had  lately  timidly  ap- 
proached Mr.  Hardy  and  asked  him  if  he  would 
not  take  a  class  of  boys  in  the  Sunday-school. 
What!  He  take  a  class  of  boys?  He,  the  inn u- 
ential,  wealthy  manager  of  one  of  the  largest 
railroad  shops  in  the  world — he  give  his  time 
to  the  teaching  of  a  Sunday-school  class!  He 
excused  himself  on  the  score  of  lack  of  time, 
and  the  very  same  evening  of  his  interview  with 
the  superintendent  he  went  to  the  theatre  to 
hear  a  roaring  farce,  and  after  he  reached  home 
spent  an  hour  in  his  favorite  study  of  chemistry 
in  his  laboratory  at  the  top  of  his  house.  For 
Mr.  Hardy  was  a  man  of  considerable  power  as 
a  student,  and  he  had  an  admirable  physical 
constitution,  capable  of  the  most  terrible  strain. 
Anything  that  gave  him  pleasure  he  was  willing 
to  work  for.  He  was  not  lazy.  But  the  idea  of 
giving  his  personal  time  and  service  and  talents 
to  bless  the  world  had  no  more  in  his  mind. 

And  so,  as  he  lay  on  the  lounge  that  evening 
and  listened  to  his  wife's  plain  statement  con- 
cerning his  selfishness,  he  had  no  intention  to 
give  up  a  single  thing  that  gratified  his  tastes 


12  Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

arid  fed  his  pride.  After  a  silence  just  about 
long  enough  for  some  one  to  give  the  explana- 
tion just  given,  Mrs.  Hardy  said,  speaking  cold- 
ly as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  indifference  to  her: 

"Mr.  Burns,  the  foreman,  called  while  you 
were  out." 

"He  did  ?    What  did  he  want  ?" 

"He  said  four  of  the  men  in  the  casting-room 
were  severely  injured  this  afternoon  by  the 
bursting  of  one  of  the  retorts  and  the  entire 
force  had  quit  work  and  gone  home." 

"Couldn't  Burns  supply  the  place  of  the  in- 
jured men  ?  He  knows  where  the  extras  are." 

"That  was  what  he  came  to  see  you  about. 
Ho  said  he  needed  further  directions.  The  men 
flatly  refused  to  work  another  minute  and  went 
out  in  a  body.  I  don't  blame  them  much.  Rob- 
ert,  don't  you  believe  God  will  punish  you  for 
keeping  the  shops  open  on  Sunday  ?" 

"Nonsense,  Mary,"  replied  Mr.  Hardy;  yet 
there  was  a  shadow  of  uneasiness  in  his  tone. 
"The  work  has  got  to  go  on.  It  is  a  work  of 
necessity.  Railroads  are  public  servants.  They 
can't  rest  Sundays." 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  13 

"Then  when  God  tells  the  world  that  it  must 
not  work  on  Sundays,  He  does  not  mean  rail- 
road men?  The  Fourth  Commandment  ought 
to  read,  'Remember  the  Sabbath  Day  and  keep 
it  holy  except  all  ye  men  who  work  for  rail- 
roads. Ye  haven't  any  Sunday." 

"Mary,  I  didn'"t  come  from  one  sermon  to  lis- 
ten to  another.  You're  worse  than  Mr.  Jones." 

Mr.  Hardy  half  rose  on  the  lounge  and  leaned 
on  his  elbow,  looking  at  his  wife  with  every 
mark  of  displeasure  on  his  face.  And  yet  as  he 
looked,  somehow  there  stole  into  his  thought 
the  memory  of  the  old  New  England  home  back 
in  the  Vermont  hills,  and  the  vision  of  that 
quiet  little  country  village  where  Mary  and  lie 
had  been  brought  up  together.  He  seemed  to 
see  the  old  meeting-house  on  the  hill  at  the  end 
of  a  long,  elm-shaded  street  that  straggled 
through  the  village,  and  he  saw  himself  again 
as  he  began  to  fall  in  love  with  Mary,  the  beauty 
of  the  village,  and  he  had  a  vision  of  one  Sun- 
day when,  walking  back  from  church  by  Mary's 
side,  he  had  asked  her  to  be  his  wife.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  a  breath  of  the  meadow  just  beyond 


11  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Squire  Hazen's  place  came  into  the  room  just 
as  it  was  wafted  up  to  him  when  Mary  turned 
and  said  the  happy  word  that  made  that  day  the 
gladdest,  proudest  day  he  had  ever  known. 
What  memories  of  the  old  times !  What ! 

He  seemed  to  come  to  himself  and  stared 
around  into  the  fire  as  if  wondering  where  he- 
was,  and  he  did  not  see  the  tear  that  rolled 
down  his  wife's  cheek  and  fell  upon  her  two 
hands  clasped  in  her  lap.  She  arose  and  went 
over  to  the  piano  which  stood  in  shadow,  and 
sitting  down  with  her  back  to  her  husband  she 
played  fragments  of  music  nervously.  Mr. 
Hardy  lay  down  on  the  lounge  again.  After 
awhile  Mrs.  Hardy  wheeled  about  on  the  piano 
stool  and  said: 

"Kobert,  don't  you  think  you  had  better  go 
over  and  see  Mr.  Burns  about  the  men  who 
were  hurt?" 

"Why,  what  can  I  do  about  it?  The  com- 
pany's doctor  will  see  to  them.  I  should  only 
be  in  the  way.  Did  Burns  say  they  were  badly 
hurt?" 

"One  of  them  had!  his  eyes  put  out,  and  an- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  15 

other  will  have  to  lose  both  feet.    I  think  he 
eaid  his  name  was  Scoville." 
"What,  not  Ward  Scoville?" 
"I  think  Burns  said  that  was  the  name/' 
Mr.  Hardy  rose  from  the  lounge,  then  lay 
down  again.    "Oh,  well,  I  can  go  there  the  first 
thing  in  the  moraing.     I  can't  do  anything 
now,"  he  muttered. 

But  there  came  to  his  memory  a  picture  of 
one  day  when  ho  was  walking  through  the  ma- 
chine shops,  and  a  heavy  piece  of  casting  had 
broken  from  the  end  of  a  large  hoisting  derrick 
and  would  have  fallen  upon  him  and  probably 
killed  him  if  this  man,  Scoville,  at  the  time  a 
workman  in  the  machine  department,  had  not 
pulled  him  to  one  side  at  the  danger  of  his  own 
life.  As  it  was,  in  saving  the  life  of  the  mana- 
ger, Scoville  was  struck  on  the  shoulder  and 
rendered  useless  for  work  for  four  weeks.  Mr. 
Hardy  had  raised  his  wages  and  advanced  him 
to  a  responsible  position  in  the  casting-room. 
Mr.  Hardy  was  not  a  man  without  generosity 
and  humane  feeling.  But  as  he  lay  on  the 
lounge  that  evening  and  thought  of  the  cold 


16  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

snow  outside  and  the  distance  to  the  shop  tene- 
ments, he  readily  excused  himself  from  going  out 
to  see  the  man  who  had  once  saved  his  life  and 
who  now  lay  maimed  for  life.  If  anyone  thinks 
it  impossible  that  one  man  calling  himself  a 
Christian  could  be  thus  indifferent  to  another, 
then  he  does  not  know  the  power  that  selfish- 
ness can  exercise  over  the  actions  of  men.  Mr. 
Hardy  had  one  supreme  law  which  he  obeyed, 
and  that  law  was  self. 

Again  Mrs.  Hardy,  who  rarely  ventured  to 
oppose  her  husband's  wishes,  turned  to  the 
piano  and  struck  a  few  chords  aimlessly.  Then 
she  wheeled  about  and  said  abruptly: 

"Robert,  the  cook  gave  warning  to-night  that 
she  must  go  home  at  once." 

Mr.  Hardy  had  begun  to  doze  a  little,  but  at 
this  sudden  statement  he  sat  up  and  exclaimed : 
"Well,  you  are  the  bearer  of  bad  news  to-night, 
Mary.  What's  the  matter  with  everybody?  I 
suppose  the  cook  wants  more  pay." 

Mrs.  Hardy  replied  quietly,  "Her  sister  is 
dying.  And  do  you  know,  I  believe  I  have 
never  given  the  girl  credit  for  much  feeling. 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  17 

She  always  seemed  to  me  to  lack  there,  though 
she  is  certainly  the  most  faithful  and  efficient 
servant  we  ever  had  in  the  house.  She  came 
in  just  after  Mr.  Burns  left,  and  broke  down, 
crying  bitterly.  It  seems  her  sister  is  married 
to  one  of  the  railroad  men  here  in  town  and  has 
been  ailing  with  consumption  for  some  months. 
She  is  very  poor,  and  a  large  family  has  kept 
her  struggling  for  mere  existence.  The  cook 
was  almost  beside  herself  with  grief  as  she  told 
the  story,  and  eaid  she  must  leave  us  and  care 
for  her  sister,  who  could  not  live  more  than  a 
week  at  longest.  I  pitied  the  poor  girl.  Eob- 
ert, don't  you  think  we  could  do  something  for 
the  family?  We  have  so  much  ourselves.  We 
could  easily  help  them  and  not  miss  a  single 
luxury." 

"And  where  would  such  help  end  ?  If  we  give 
to  every  needy  person  who  comes  along  we  shall 
be  beggars  ourselves.  Besides,  I  can't  afford  it. 
The  boys  are  a  heavy  expense  to  me  while  they 
are  in  college,  and  the  company  has  been  cut- 
ting down  salaries  lately.  If  the  cook's  sister  is 
married  to  a  railroad  man,  he  is  probably  get- 


IS  Robert  Hardy's  Sevea  Days. 

ting  good  wages  and  can  support  her  all  right." 

"What  if  that  railroad  man  was  injured  and 
m<ide  a  cripple  for  life?"  inquired  Mrs.  Hardy 
quietly. 

"Then  the  insurance  companies  or  the  so- 
cieties can  help  them  out.  I  don't  see  how  we 
can  make  every  case  that  comes  along  our  care. 
There  would  be  no  end  of  it  if  we  once  began." 

"As  near  as  I  could  find  out,"  continued  Mrs. 
Hardy  without  replying  to  her  husband's  re- 
marks, "cook's  sister  is  married  to  one  of  the 
men  who  was  hurt  this  afternoon.  She  talks 
so  brokenly  in  our  language  that  I  could  not 
make  out  exactly  how  it  is.  And  she  was  much 
excited.  Suppose  it  was  Scoville.  Couldn't 
you  do  something  for  them  then,  Robert  ?" 

"1  might,"  replied  Mr.  Hardy  briefly.  "But 
I  can  tell  you,  I  have  more  calls  for  my  money 
now  than  I  can  meet.  Take  the  church  ex- 
penses for  example.  Why,  we  are  called  upon 
to  give  to  some  cause  or  other  every  week  be- 
sides our  regular  pledges  for  current  expenses. 
It's  a  constant  drain.  I  shall  have  to  cut  down 
on  my  pledge.  We  can't  be  giving  to  every 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  19 

thing,  all  the  time,  and  have  any  thing  our- 
selves." 

Mr.  Hardy  spoke  with  a  touch  of  indignation, 
and  his  wife  glanced  around  the  almost  palatial 
room  and  smiled,  and  then  her  face  grew  a  lit- 
tle stern  and  almost  forbidding  as  she  remem- 
bered that  only  last  week  her  husband  had 
spent  $150  for  a  new  electrical  apparatus  to  ex- 
periment with  in  his  laboratory.  And  now  he 
was  talking  hard  times,  and  grudging  the  small 
sums  he  gave  to  religious  objects  in  connection 
with  his  church,  and  thinking  he  could  not  af- 
ford to  help  the  family  of  a  man  who  had  once 
saved  his  life. 

Again  she  turned  to  the  piano  and  played 
awhile,  but  she  could  not  be  rested  by  the  music 
as  sometimes  she  had  been.  When  she  finally 
arose  and  walked  over  by  the  table  near  the  end 
of  the  lounge,  Mr.  Hardy  was  asleep,  and  she 
sat  down  by  the  table  gazing  into  the  open  fire 
drearily,  a  look  of  sorrow  and  unrest  on  the  face 
still  beautiful  but  worn  by  years  of  disappoint- 
ment and  the  loss  of  that  respect  and  admira- 
tion she  once  held  for  the  man  who  had  vowed 


20  llobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

at  the  altar  to  make  her  happy.  She  had  not 
lost  her  love  for  him  wholly,  but  she  was  fast 
losing  the  best  part  of  it,  the  love  which  has  vts 
daily  source  in  an  inborn  respect.  When  re- 
spect is  gone,  love  is  not  long  in  following  after. 

She  sat  thus  for  half  an  hour  and  was  at  last 
aroused  by  the  two  girls,  Clara  and  Bess,  com- 
ing in.  They  were  laughing  and  talking  togeth- 
er and  had  evidently  parted  with  some  one  tt 
the  door.  Mrs.  Hardy  went  out  into  the  hallwa  y. 

"Hush,  girls,  your  father  is  asleep!  YIJU 
know  how  he  feels  to  be  awakened  suddenly  ly 
noise.  But  he  has  been  waiting  up  for  you." 

"Then  I  guess  we'll  go  upstairs  without  bid- 
ding him  good-night,"  said  Clara,  abruptly.  "I 
don't  want  to  be  lectured  about  going  over  to 
the  Caxtons." 

"No,  I  want  to  see  you  both,  and  have  a  little 
talk  with  you.  Come  in  here."  Mrs.  Hardy 
drew  the  two  girls  into  the  front  room  and 
pulled  the  curtains  together  over  the  arch  open- 
ing into  the  room  where  Mr.  Hardy  lay.  "Now 
tell  me,  girls,  why  did  your  father  forbid  your 
£oing  over  to  the  Caxtons?  I  did  not  know 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  'H 

until  to-night.  Has  it  something  to  do  whh 
James?" 

Neither  of  the  girls  said  anything  for  a  min- 
ute. Then  Bess,  who  was  the  younger  of  the 
two  and  famous  for  startling  the  family  with 
very  sensational  remarks,  replied,  "James  and 
Clara  are  engaged;  and  they  are  going  to  be 
married  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Hardy  looked  at  Clara  and  the  girl  grtnv 
very  red  in  the  face,  and  then,  to  the  surprke 
of  her  mother  and  Bess,  she  burst  out  into  a 
violent  fit  of  crying.  Mrs.  Hardy  gathered  hfr 
into  her  arms  as  in  the  olden  times  when  she 
was  a  little  child  and  soothed  her  into  quiet- 
ness. "Tell  me  all  about  it,  dear.  I  did  not 
know  you  cared  for  James  in  that  way." 

"But  I  do,"  sobbed  Clara.  "And  father 
guessed  something  and  forbade  us  going  there 
any  more.  But  I  didn't  think  he  would  mind 
it  if  Bess  and  I  went  just  this  one  night.  I 
couldn't  help  it,  anyway.  Mother,  isn't  it  right 
for  people  to  love  each  other  ?" 

"  'Tisn't  proper  to  talk  about  such  things  on 
Sunday,"  said  Bess  solemnly. 


23  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"Clara,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy,  "why  you're  only 
a  child  yet!  Is  it  true  that  James  is — why,  he 
is  only  a  boy." 

"He  is  twenty-one  and  I  am  eighteen  and  he's 
earning  forty  dollars  a  month  in  the  office  and 
one  of  the  best  stenographers  in  the  State,  and 
we've  talked  it  over,  and  I  wish  we  could  be 
married  to-morrow,  so!"  Clara  burst  out  with 
it  all  at  once,  while  Bess  remarked  quietly, 

"Yes,  they're  real  sensible,  and  I  think  James 
is  nice,  but  when  I  marry  I  want  more  than 
forty  dollars  a  month  for  candy  alone.  And 
then  he  isn't  particularly  handsome." 

"He  is  too!"  cried  Clara.  "And  he's  good 
and  brave  and  splendid,  and  I'd  rather  have 
him  than  a  thousand  such  men  as  Lancey  Cum- 
mings !  Mother,  I  don't  want  money.  It  hasn't 
made  you  happy!" 

"Hush,  dear!"  Mrs.  Hardy  felt  as  if  a  blow 
had  smitten  her  in  the  face.  She  was  silent 
then.  Clara  put  her  arms  around  her  mother 
and  whispered, 

"Forgive  me,  mother,  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt 
you.  But  I  am  so  unhappy!" 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  23 

Unhappy!  And  yet  the  girl  was  just  begin- 
ning to  blossom  out  towards  the  face  of  God 
under  the  influence  of  that  most  divine  and 
tender  and  true  feeling  that  ever  comes  to  a 
girl  who  knows  a  true,  brave  man  loves  her  with 
all  his  soul.  And  some  people  would  have  us 
leave  this  subject  to  the  flippant  novelist  in- 
stead of  treating  it  as  Christ  did  when  He  said, 
"For  this  cause  (that  is,  for  love)  shall  a  man 
leave  his  father  and  mother  and  cleave  unto  his 
wife." 

Mrs.  Hardy  was  on  the  point  of  saying  some- 
thing when  the  sound  of  peculiar  steps  on  the 
stairs  was  heard,  and  shortly  after  Alice  pushed 
the  curtains  aside  and  came  in.  Alice  was  the 
oldest  girl  in  the  family.  She  was  a  cripple,  the 
result  of  an  accident  when  a  child,  and  she  car- 
ried a  crutch,  using  it  with  much  skill  and  even 
grace.  The  minute  she  entered  the  room  she 
saw  something  was  happening,  but  she  simply 
said, 

"Mother,  isn't  it  a  little  strange  father  sleeps 
so  soundly?  I  went  up  to  him  and  spoke  to 
him  just  now,  thinking  he  was  just  lying  there, 


24  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

and  he  didn't  answer,  and  then  I  saw  he  was 
asleep.  But  I  never  knew  him  to  sleep  so  Sun- 
day night.  He  usually  reads,  up  in  the  study."' 
"Perhaps  he  is  sick,  I  will  go  and  see." 
Mrs.  Hardy  rose  and  went  into  the  other 
room.  And  just  then  the  younger  boy,  Will, 
came  downstairs.  He  said  something  to  his 
mother  as  he  passed  through  the  room,  and 
then  came  in  where  the  girls  were,  carrying 
one  of  his  books  in  his  hand. 

"Say,  Alice,  translate  this  passage  for  me, 
will  you?  Confound  the  old  Eomans  anyway! 
What  do  I  care  about  the  way  they  fought  their 
old  battles,  and  built  their  old  one-horse 
bridges!  What  makes  me  angry  is  the  way 
Ca-sar  has  of  telling  a  thing.  Why  can't  he 
drive  right  straight  ahead  instead  of  beating 
about  the  bush  so  ?  If  I  couldn't  get  up  a  bet- 
ter language  than  these  old  duffers  used  to 
write  their  books  in,  I'd  lie  down  and  die.  I 
can't  find  the  old  verb  to  that  sentence  any 
way.  Maybe  it's  around  on  the  other  page 
somewhere,  or  maybe  Caesar  left  it  out  just  on 
purpose  to  plague  us  boys." 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  25 

And  Will  shied  the  book  over  to  Alice,  who 
good-naturedly  began  to  read,  while  that  much- 
suffering  youth  sat  down  by  Bess  and  began  to 
tease  her  and  Clara. 

"What  are  you  and  Clara  doing  at  this  time 
of  day?  Time  you  youngsters  were  going  up- 
stairs. Play  us  a  little  tune,  Bessie,  will  you?  What 
have  you  been  crying  for,  Clara  Vere  de  Vere  ?" 

"I  should  think  you  would  be  ashamed  of 
yourself,  Will,  studying  on  Sunday  nights!" 
said  little  Bess,  reprovingly,  and  with  dignity. 

"No  worse  than  sparking  Sunday  nights," 
retorted  the  incorrigible  Will. 

"I  haven't  been,"  replied  Bess,  indignantly. 
"I've  been  with  Clara—" 

"She  doesn't  need  any  help  does  she?"  in- 
quired Will,  innocently.  And  going  over  where 
Clara  lay  with  her  face  hid  in  the  pillow  of  a 
large  couch,  Will  tried  to  pull  the  pillow  out 
from  under  her  head. 

"Let  me  alone,  Will.  I  don't  feel  well,"  said 
a  muffled  voice  from  the  pillow. 

"Pshaw!  you're  fooling." 

"No  I'm  not.    Let  me  alone." 


26  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"Come  here,  or  I  won't  read  your  sentence 
for  you/'  called  Alice.  And  Will  reluctantly 
withdrew,  for  he  knew  from  experience  that 
Alice  would  keep  her  word. 

"All  right.  Now  go  ahead ;  not  too  fast.  Here ! 
Wait  a  minute!  Let  me  write  her  down.  I 
don't  intend  to  miss  to-morrow  if  I  can  help  it. 
And  old  Romulus  will  call  me  up  on  this  very 
passage,  I  know.  Be  just  like  him  though,  to 
strike  me  on  the  review." 

At  that  minute  the  door  opened  and  in  came 
George,  the  elder  boy,  and  the  oldest  of  the 
group  of  children.  He  hung  up  his  hat  and 
coat  and  strolled  into  the  room. 

"Where's  mother?" 

"She's  in  the  other  room,"  answered  Bess. 
"Father's  been  asleep  and  mother  was  afraid 
he  was  going  to  have  a  fever." 

"That's  one  of  your  stories,"  said  George, 
who  seemed  in  a  good-natured  mood.  He  sat 
down  and  drew  his  little  sister  towards  him 
and  whispered  to  her, 

"Say,  Bess,  I  want  some  money  again." 

"Awfully?"  whispered  Bess. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  27 

"Yes,  for  a  special  reason.  Do  you  think  you 
could  let  me  have  a  little?" 

"Why,  of  course,  you  can  have  all  my  month's 
allowance.  But  why  don't  you  ask  father?" 

"No,  I've  asked  him  too  much  lately.  He  re- 
fused point  blank  last  time.  I  didn't  like  it 
the  way  he  spoke." 

"Well  you  can  have  all  mine,"  said  Bess  whis- 
pering. 

George  and  she  were  great  friends,  and  there 
was  not  a  thing  that  Bessie  would  not  have  done 
for  her  big  brother,  who  was  her  hero.  What 
he  wanted  with  so  much  money  she  never  asked. 

They  were  still  whispering  together,  and 
Clara  had  just  risen  to  go  upstairs,  and  Alice 
and  Will  had  finished  the  translation,  and  Will 
was  just  on  the  point  of  seeing  how  near  he 
could  come  to  throwing  the  Commentaries  of 
Csesar  into  an  ornamental  Japanese  jar  across 
the  room,  when  Mrs.  Hardy  parted  the  cur- 
tains at  the  arch  and  beckoned  her  children  to 
come  into  the  next  room.  Her  face  was  ex- 
ceedingly pale  and  she  was  trembling  as  if  with 
some  great  terror. 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  children  all  cried  out  in  surprise  and 
hurried  into  the  next  room.  But  before  relat- 
ing what  happened  there,  we  will  follow  Mr. 
Hardy  into  the  experience  he  had,  just  after 
falling  asleep  upon  the  lounge  b}r  the  open  fire. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  stepped  at  once 
from  the  room  where  he  lay  into  a  place  such 
as  he  had  never  seen  before,  where  the  one 
great  idea  that  filled  his  entire  thought  was  the 
idea  of  the  Present  Moment.  Spread  out  be- 
fore him  as  if  reproduced  by  a  phonograph  and 
a  magic  lantern  combined,  was  the  moving 
panorama  of  the  entire  world.  He  thought  he 
saw  into  every  home,  every  public  place  of  busi- 
ness, every  saloon  and  place  of  amusement, 
every  shop,  and  every  farm,  every  place  of  in- 
dustry, amusement,  and  vice  upon  the  face  of 
the  globe.  And  he  thought  he  could  hear  the 
world's  conversation,  catch  its  sobs,  of  suffering, 
nay,  even  catch  the  meaning  of  unspoken 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  29 

thoughts  of  the  heart.  With  that  absurd  rap- 
idity peculiar  to  certain  dreams,  he  fancied 
that  over  every  city  on  the  globe  was  placed  a 
glass  cover  through  which  he  could  look,  and 
through  which  the  sounds  of  the  city's  industry 
came  to  him.  But  he  thought  that  he  ascer- 
tained that  by  lifting  off  one  of  these  covers  he 
could  hear  with  greater  distinctness  the 
thoughts  of  the  inhabitants,  and  see  all  they 
were  doing  and  suffering,  with  the  most  minute 
exactness.  He  looked  for  the  place  of  his  own 
town,  Barton.  There  it  lay  in  its  geographical 
spot  on  the  globe,  and  he  thought  that,  moved 
by  an  impulse  he  could  not  resist,  he  lifted  off 
the  cover  and  bent  down  to  see  and  hear. 

The  first  thing  he  saw  was  his  minister's 
home.  It  was  just  after  the  Sunday  evening 
service,  the  one  which  Mr.  Hardy  had  thought 
so  dull.  Mr.  Jones  was  talking  over  the  even- 
ing with  his  wife. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  "I  feel  about  discour- 
aged. Of  what  use  is  all  our  praying  and  long- 
ing for  the  Holy  Spirit,  when  our  own  church 
members  are  so  cold  and  unspiritual  that  all 


30  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

His  influence  is  destroyed?  And  you  know  I 
made  a  special  plea  to  all  the  members  to  come 
out  to-night,  and  only  a  handful  there.  I  feel 
like  giving  up  the  struggle.  You  know  I  could 
make  a  better  living  in  literary  work,  and  the 
children  could  be  better  cared  for  then." 

"But,  John,  it  was  a  bad  night  to  get  out, 
you  must  remember  that." 

"But  only  fifty  out  of  a  church  membership 
of  four  hundred,  most  of  them  living  near  by. 
It  doesn't  seem  just  right  to  me." 

"Mr.  Hardy  was  there.     Did  you  see  him?" 

"Yes,  after  service  I  went  and  spoke  to  him 
and  he  treated  me  very  coldly.  And  yet  he  is 
the  most  wealthy,  and  in  some  ways  the  most 
gifted  church  member  we  have.  He  could  do  great 
things  for  the  good  of  this  community,  if — " 

Suddenly  Mr.  Hardy  thought  the  minister 
changed  into  the  Sunday-school  superintend- 
ent, and  he  was  walking  down  the  street  think- 
ing about  his  classes  in  the  school,  and  Mr. 
Hardy  thought  he  could  hear  the  superintend- 
ent's thoughts  as  if  his  ear  was  at  a  phono- 
graph. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  31 

"It's  too  bad  that  class  of  boys  I  wanted  Mr. 
Hardy  to  take  left  the  school  because  no  one 
could  be  found  to  teach  them.  And  now  Bob 
Wilson  has  got  into  trouble  and  been  arrested 
for  petty  thieving.  It  will  be  a  terrible  blow 
to  his  poor  mother.  Oh,  why  is  it  that  men 
like  Mr.  Hardy  cannot  be  made  to  see  the  im- 
portance of  work  in  the  Sunday-school !  With 
his  knowledge  of  chemistry  and  geology,  he 
could  have  reached  that  class  of  boys  and  in- 
vited them  to  his  home,  up  into  his  laboratory, 
and  exercised  an  influence  over  them  they  would 
never  outgrow.  Oh!  It's  a  strange  thing  to 
me  that  men  of  such  possibilities  do  not  realize 
their  power!" 

The  superintendent  passed  along  shaking  his 
head  sorrowfully,  and  Mr.  Hardy,  who  seemed 
guided  by  some  power  he  could  not  resist  and 
compelled  to  listen  whether  he  liked  it  or  not, 
next  found  himself  looking  into  one  of  the  rail- 
road shop  tenements,  where  the  man  Scoville 
was  lying,  awaiting  amputation  of  both  feet 
after  the  terrible  accident.  Scoville's  wife  lay 
upon  a  ragged  lounge,  while  Mrs.  Hardy's  cook 


32       .     Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

kneeled  by  her  side  and  in  her  native  Swedish 
tongue  tried  to  comfort  the  poor  woman.  So 
it  was  true  that  these  two  were  sisters.  The 
man  was  still  conscious  and  suffering  unspeak- 
ably. The  railroad  surgeon  had  been  sent  for, 
but  had  not  arrived.  Three  or  four  men  and 
their  wives  had  come  in  to  do  what  they  could. 
Mr.  Burns,  the  foreman,  was  among  them.  One 
of  the  men  spoke  in  a  whisper  to  him : 

"Have  you  been  to  see  Mr.  Hardy?" 

"Yes,  but  he  was  at  church.  I  left  word 
about  the  accident." 

"At  church!  So  even  the  devil  sometimes 
goes  to  church.  What  for,  I  wonder?  Will  he 
be  here,  think?" 

"Don't  know!"  replied  Mr.  Burns  curtly. 

"Do  you  mind  when  he  (pointing  to  Scoville) 
saved  Mr.  Hardy's  life  ?" 

"Remember  it  well  enough.  Was  standing 
close  by." 

"What'll  be  done  with  the  children  when 
Scoville  goes,  eh?" 

"Don't  know." 

Just  then  the  surgeon  came  in  and  prepara- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  33 

tions  were  rapidly  made  for  the  operation.  And 
the  last  that  Mr.  Hardy  heard  was  the  shriek 
of  the  poor  wife  as  she  struggled  to  her  feet  and 
fell  in  a  fit  across  the  floor  where  two  of  the 
youngest  children  clung  terrified  to  her  dress 
and  the  father  cried  out,  tears  of  agony  and  de- 
spair running  down  his  face,  "My  God,  what  a 
hell  this  world  is !" 

The  next  scene  was  a  room  where  every 
thing  appeared  confused  at  first,  but  finally 
grew  more  distinct  and  terrible  in  its  signifi- 
cance. And  the  first  person  Mr.  Hardy  recog- 
nized was  his  own  oldest  boy,  George,  in  com- 
pany with  a  group  of  young  men  engaged  in — 
what !  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  stared  painfully. 
Yes,  they  were  gambling.  So  here  was  where 
George  spent  all  his  money,  and  Bessie's,  too. 
Xothing  that  the  miserable  father  had  seen  so 
far  cut  him  to  the  quick  quite  so  sharply  as  this. 
He  had  prided  himself  on  his  own  freedom 
from  vices,  and  had  an  honest  horror  of  them. 
For  Mr.  Hardy  is  not  a  monster  of  iniquity, 
only  an  intensely  selfish  man.  Gambling, 


34  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

drinking,  impurity,  all  the  physical  vices,  were 
to  Mr.  Hardy  the  lowest  degradation. 

The  thought  that  his  own  son  had  fallen  into 
this  pit  was  terrible  to  him-  But  he  was  com- 
pelled to  look  and  listen.  All  the  young  men 
were  smoking,  and  beer  and  wine  stood  on  a 
buffet  at  one  side  of  the  room  and  were  plenti- 
fully partaken  of. 

"I  say,  George,"  said  a  very  flashily  dressed 
youth  who  was  smoking  that  invention  of  the 
devil,  a  cigarette,  "your  old  man  would  rub  hi? 
eyes  to  see  you  here,  eh  ?" 

"Well,  I  should  remark  he  would,"  replied 
George,  as  he  shuffled  the  cards  and  then  helped 
himself  to  a  drink. 

"I  say,  George/'  said  the  first  speaker,  "your 
sister  Bess  is  getting  to  be  a  beauty.  Introduce 
me,  will  you?" 

"No,  I  won't,"  said  George,  shortly.  He  had 
been  losing  all  the  evening  and  he  felt  nervous 
and  irritable. 

"Ah!   We  are  too  bad,  eh?" 

George  made  some  fierce  reply,  and  the  other 
fellow  struck  him.  Instantly  George  sprang  to 


"Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  35 

his  feet  and  a  fight  took  place.  Mr.  Hardy 
could  not  bear  it  any  longer.  He  thought  he 
broke  away  from  the  scene  by  the  exercise  of  a 
great  determination  and  next  found  himself 
looking  into  his  own  home. 

It  seemed  to  him  it  was  an  evening  when  he 
and  all  the  children  had  gone  out  and  Mrs. 
Hardy  sat  alone,  looking  into  the  fire  as  she  had 
been  looking  before  he  fell  asleep.  She  was 
thinking,  and  her  thoughts  were  like  burning 
coals  as  they  fell  into  Mr.  Hardy's  heart  and 
scorched  him,  as  not  any  scene,  not  even  the 
last,  had  done. 

"My  husband!"  Mrs.  Hardy  was  saying  to 
herself, • — "how  long  is  it  since  he  gave  me  a 
caress,  kissed  me  when  he  went  to  his  work,  or 
laid  his  hand  lovingly  on  my  cheek  as  he  used 
to  do !  How  brave,  and  handsome,  and  good  I 
used  to  think  him  in  the  old  Vermont  days 
when  we  were  struggling  for  our  little  home, 
and  his  best  thought  was  of  the  home  and  of 
the  wife!  But  the  years  have  changed  him,  oh, 
yes !  they  have  changed  him  bitterly.  I  wonder 
if  he  realizes  r..y  hunger  for  his  affection!  Of 


36  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

what  value  to  me  are  all  these  baubles  wealth 
brings  compared  with  a  loving  look,  a  tender 
smile,  an  affectionate  caress!  0  Robert!  Rob- 
ert !  Come  back  to  me !  For  I  am  so  lonely,  so 
lonely!  Would  to  God  all  our  riches  might  be 
taken  from  us  and  all  our  position  in  society 
might  be  lost  to  us!  For  I  am  fast  losing  my 
love  for  him  who  is  my  husband.  Great,  and 
long  suffering,  and  forgiving  God,  help  me!  I 
feel  wicked  sometimes.  I  cannot  bear  this  kin  .1 
of  a  life.  It  is  killing  me!  It  is  robbing  me 
of  all  that  life  contains  that  is  sweet  and  tru^. 
0  Father  of  mercies,  for  Jesus's  sake,  do  not 
let  me  grow  insane  or  without  belief !  0  Robe?  t, 
Robert,  my  lover,  my  husband;  I  will,  I  will 
love  you!"  And  Mrs.  Hardy  fell  on  her  kne^s 
by  the  side  of  the  couch  and  buried  her  face  in 
its  cushions  and  sobbed  and  prayed. 

Suddenly  the  whole  scene  changed,  and  Mr. 
Hardy,  who  had  stretched  out  his  arms  to  com- 
fort his  wife  as  in  the  old  days  when  love  was 
young,  felt  himself  carried  by  an  irresistible 
power  up  away  from  the  earth,  past  the  stars 
and  planets,  and  suns,  and  satellites,  that 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  *•?. 

blazed  like  gems  in  space;  on,  on,  for  what 
seemed  to  him  like  ages  of  time,  until  even  the 
thought  of  time  grew  indistinct,  on  and  up  and 
into  the  presence  of  the  most  mighty  Face  he 
had  ever  looked  into.  It  was  the  Face  of  Etern- 
ity. On  its  brow  was  written  in  words  of  blaz- 
ing light  the  one  word,  "Now."  And  as  he 
looked  into  that  calm,  awful  Face  and  read  that 
awful  word,  Mr.  Hardy  felt  his  soul  crumble 
within  him,  when  the  Face  spoke  and  it  was  thtf 
speech  of  a  thousand  oceans  heaved  by  a  milli  r  rt 
tempests,  yet  through  the  terror  of  it  ran  « 
thread  of  music,  a  still,  sweet  sound  like  evw- 
lasting  love,  as  if  angels  sang  somewhere  a  'ti!- 
vine  accompaniment.  And  the  Face  said: 

"Child  of  Humanity,  you  have  neglected  and 
despised  me  for  fifty  years.  You  have  lived  for 
yourself.  You  have  been  careless  and  thought- 
less of  the  world's  great  needs.  The  time  of 
your  redemption  is  short.  It  has  been  granted 
you  by  Him  who  rules  the  world  that  you 
should  have  but  seven  more  days  to  live  upon 
the  earth — seven  days  to  help  redeem  your  soul 
from  everlasting  shame  and  death.  Mortal,  see 


38  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

to  it  that  thou  usest  the  precious  time  like  those 
who  toil  for  jewels  in  the  mine  beneath  the  sea. 
I  who  speak  unto  thee  am  Eternity." 

Then  Robert  Hardy  thought  he  fell  upon  his 
face  before  that  awful  Face  and  begged  in  bit- 
terest terror  for  a  longer  lease  of  life. 

"Seven  days !  Why  it  will  be  but  seven  swift 
seconds  to  redeem  my  past !  Seven  days !  It  will 
be  a  nothing  in  the  marking  of  time !  0  mighty- 
power,  grant  me  longer!  Seven  weeks!  Seven 
years !  And  I  will  live  for  thee  as  never  mortal 
yet  lived!" 

And  Eobert  Hardy  sobbed  and  held  his  arms 
beseechingly  up  toward  that  most  resplendent 
Face.  And  as  he  thus  stretched  out  his  arms, 
the  Face  bent  down  towards  his,  and  he  thought 
a  smile  of  pity  gleamed  upon  it,  and  he  hoped 
that  more  time  would  be  granted  him;  and 
then,  as  it  came  nearer,  he  suddenly  awoke,  and 
there  was  his  own  wife  bending  over  him,  and 
a  tear  from  her  face  fell  upon  his  own  as  she 
said,  "Robert!  Robert!" 

Mr.  Hardy  sat  up  confused  and  trembling. 
Then  he  clasped  his  wife  to  him  and  kissed  her 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  39 

as  he  used  to  do.  And  then  to  her  great  amaze- 
ment he  related  to  her  in  a  low  tone  the  dream 
he  had  just  had.  Mrs.  Hardy  listened  in  the 
most  undisguised  astonishment.  But  what  fol- 
lowed filled  her  heart  with  fear. 

"Mary,"  said  her  husband  with  the  utmost 
solemnity,  "I  cannot  regard  this  as  a  dream, 
alone.  I  have  awakened  with  the  firm  convic- 
tion that  I  have  only  seven  days  left  to  live.  1 
feel  that  God  has  spoken  to  me.  And  I  have 
only  seven  days  more  to  do  my  work  in  this 
world." 

"0  Robert !  It  was  only  a  dream." 

"No,  it  was  more,  Mary.  You  know  I  am  not 
imaginative  or  superstitious  in  the  least.  You 
know  I  never  dream.  And  this  was  something 
else.  I  shall  die  out  of  this  world  a  week  from 
to-night.  Are  the  children  here?  Call  them  in.v 

Mr.  Hardy  spoke  in  a  tone  of  such  calm  con- 
viction that  Mrs.  Hardy  was  filled  with  wonder 
and  fear.  She  went  to  the  curtain,  and  as  we 
have  already  recorded  she  called  the  children 
into  the  other  room. 

Mr.  Hardy  gazed  upon  his  children  with  a 


40  JRobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

look  they  had  not  seen  upon  his  face  for  years. 
Briefly  but  calmly  he  related  his  experience, 
omitting  the  details  of  the  vision  and  all  men- 
tion of  the  scene  where  George  had  appeared, 
and  then  declared  with  a  solemnity  and  impres- 
eiveness  that  could  not  be  resisted, 

"My  dear  children,  I  have  not  lived  as  1 
should.  I  have  not  been  to  you  the  father  I 
ought  to  have  been.  I  have  lived  a  very  selfish, 
useless  life.  1  have  only  seven  more  days  to 
live.  God  has  spoken  to  me.  I  am — " 

He  broke  off  suddenly,  and  sobbing  as  only 
a  strong  man  can,  he  drew  his  wife  towards 
him  and  caressed  her,  while  Bess  crept  up  and 
put  her  arms  about  her  father's  neck. 

The  terrible  suspicion  shot  into  Mrs.  Hardy's 
mind  that  her  husband  was  insane.  The  chil- 
dren were  terrified.  Only  Alice  seemed  to  catch 
the  reflection  of  her  mother's  thought.  At  the 
same  time  Mr.  Hardy  seemed  to  feel  the  sus- 
picion held  by  them. 

"No,"  he  said,  as  if  in  answer  to  a  spoken 
charge,  "I  am  not  insane.  I  never  was  more 
calm.  I  am  in  possession  of  all  my  faculties. 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  4-i 

But  I  have  looked  into  the  Face  of  Eternity 
this  night  and  I  know,  I  know,  that  in  seven 
days  God  will  require  my  soul.  Mary,"  he 
turned  to  his  wife  with  the  most  beseeching  cry, 
"Mar}r,  do  you  believe  me?" 

She  looked  into  her  husband's  face  and  saw 
there  the  old  look.  Eeason,  the  noblest  of  all 
things,  shone  out  of  that  noble  face  now  lighted 
up  with  the  old  love,  and  standing  on  the  brink 
of  the  other  world.  And  Mrs.  Hardy  looking 
her  husband  in  the  face  replied, 

"Yes,  Robert,  I  believe  you.  You  may  foe 
mistaken  in  this  impression  about  the  time  left 
you  to  live,  but  you  are  not  insane." 

"0  God,  I  thank  Thee  for  that!"  cried  Mr. 
Hardy.  Often  during  the  most  remarkable 
week  he  ever  lived,  Mr.  Hardy  reposed  in  that 
implicit  belief  of  his  wife  in  his  sanity. 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Mr.  Hardy  asked 
George  to  bring  the  Bible.  He  then  read  from 
John's  gospel  that  matchless  prayer  of  Christ 
in  the  Seventeenth  Chapter.  And  then,  kneel- 
ing down,  he  prayed  as  he  had  never  prayed 
before,  that  in  the  week  allotted  hirn  to  live  he 


42  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

might  know  how  to  bless  the  world  and  serve 
his  Master  best.  And  when  he  rose  and  looked 
about  upon  his  wife  and  children,  it  was  with 
the  look  of  one  who  has  been  into  the  very 
presence  chamber  of  the  only  living  God.  At 
the  same  moment,  so  fast  had  the  time  gone  in 
the  excitement,  the  clock  upon  the  mantel 
struck  the  hour  of  midnight.  And  the  first  of 
Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days  had  begun. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  43 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  FIRST  DAY. 

When  Mr.  Hardy  woke  on  the  morning  of  the 
first  of  the  seven  days  left  him  to  live,  he  was 
on  the  point  of  getting  ready  for  his  day's  busi- 
ness as  usual,  when  the  memory  of  his  dream 
flashed  upon  him  and  he  was  appalled  to  de- 
cide what  he  should  do  first.  Breakfast  was 
generally  a  hurried  and  silent  meal  with  him. 
The  children  generally  came  straggling  down  at 
irregular  intervals,  and  it  was  very  rare  that 
the  family  all  sat  down  together.  This  morn- 
ing Mr.  Hardy  waited  until  all  had  appeared, 
and  while  they  were  eating  he  held  a  family 
council.  His  wife  was  evidently  in  great  ex- 
citement and  anxiety,  and  yet  the  love  and 
tenderness  she  felt  coming  back  to  her  from 
hei  husband  gave  her  face  a  look  of  beauty  that 
had  beea  a  stranger  to  it  for  years.  The  chil- 
dren were  affected  by  their  father's  remarkable 
change  in  various  ways.  George  was  sullen  and 
silent.  Will  looked  thoughtful  and  troubled. 


44  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Alice,  a  girl  of  very  strong  and  decided  opinions 
and  character,  greeted  her  father  with  a  kiss 
and  seemed  to  understand  the  new  relations  he 
now  sustained  to  them  all.  Clara  appeared  ter- 
rified as  if  death  had  already  come  into  the 
house,  and  several  times  she  broke  down  crying 
at  the  table  and  finally  went  away  into  the  sit- 
ting-room. Bess  sat  next  to  her  father  as  she 
always  did,  and  was  the  most  cheerful  of  all, 
taking  a  very  calm  and  philosophical  view  of 
the  situation,  so  that  Mr.  Hardy  smiled  once  or 
twice  as  she  gave  her  advice.  Mr.  Hardy  was 
pale  but  calm.  The  impression  of  the  night  be- 
fore was  evidently  deepening  with  him.  It 
would  have  been  absurd  to  call  him  insane. 
His  wife  was  obliged  to  confess  to  herself  that 
he  never  appeared  more  sound  in  judgment  and 
calm  in  speech.  He  was  naturally  a  man  of 
very  strong  will.  His  passions,  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  were  under  control.  Never  in  all  his 
life  had  he  felt  so  self-contained,  so  free  from 
nervousness,  so  capable  of  sustained  effort. 
But  the  one  great  thought  that  filled  his  mind 
was  the  thought  of  the  shortness  of  the  time. 


Robert  Hardy's 

""Jk 

"Almighty  God,"  was  his  prayer,  "sho\ 
how  to  use  these  seven  days  in  the  wisest  and 
best  manner." 

"Robert,  what  will  you  do  to-day?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hardy. 

"I  have  been  thinking,  dear,  and  I  believe  my 
first  duty  is  to  God.  We  have  not  had  morning 
worship  together  for  a  long  time.  After  we 
have  knelt  as  a  family  in  prayer  to  Him,  I  be- 
lieve He  will  give  me  wisdom  to  know  what  I 
ought  to  do." 

"I  think  father  ought  to  stay  at  home  with 
us  all  the  time,"  said  Bess. 

"Robert,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy,  who  could  not 
comprehend  the  full  meaning  of  the  situation 
much  better  than  little  Bess,  "will  you  give  up 
your  business?  How  can  you  attend  to  it? 
Will  you  have  the  strength  and  the  patience 
while  laboring  under  this  impression  ?" 

"I  have  already  thought  over  that.  Yes,  I 
believe  I  ought  to  go  right  on.  I  don't  see  what 
would  be  gained  by  severing  my  connection 
with  the  company." 

"Will  you  tell  the  company  you  have  only — " 


46  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Mrs.  Hardy  could  not  say  the  words.  They 
choked  her. 

"What  would  you  do,  Alice?"  asked  her 
father,  turning  to  his  oldest  daughter  who,  al- 
though a  cripple,  had  more  than  once  revealed 
to  the  family  great  powers  of  judgment  and 
decision. 

"I  would  not  say  anything  to  the  company 
about  it,"  replied  Alice,  finally. 

"That  is  the  way  I  feel,"  said  Mr.  Hardy 
with  a  nod  of  approval.  "They  would  not  un- 
derstand it.  My  successor  in  the  office  will  be 
young  Wellman,  in  all  probability,  and  he  is 
perfectly  competent  to  carry  on  the  work.  I 
feel  as  if  this  matter  was  one  that  belonged  to 
tht  family.  I  shall,  of  course,  arrange  my  busi- 
ness affairs  with  reference  to  the  situation,  and 
George  can  give  me  half  a  day  for  the  details. 
But  you  know,  Mary,  I  have  always  kept  my 
business  in  such  shape  that  in  any  case  of  acci- 
dent or  sudden  death  matters  could  easily  bo 
arranged.  Thank  God,  I  shall  not  have  to  take 
time  for  those  matters  that  I  ought  to  give  to 
more  serious  and  important  duties/* 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  47 

It  was  true  that  Mr.  Hardy,  always  a  man  of 
very  methodical  habits  in  a  business  way,  had 
always  arranged  his  affairs  with  reference  to 
accidental  removal.  His  business  as  manager 
necessitated  his  being  on  the  road  a  great  deal, 
and  he  realized,  as  many  railroad  men  do  real- 
ize, the  liability  of  sudden  death. 

But  such  a  thought  had  not  had  any  influence 
on  his  actions  to  make  him  less  selfish.  He 
had  thought,  as  all  men  do,  that  he  should  prob- 
ably live  right  along  after  all;  that  death  might 
take  the  engineer  or  conductor  or  fireman,  but 
would  pass  him  by. 

Suddenly  Will  spoke  up : 

"Father,  do  you  want  George  and  me  to  leave 
college  ?" 

"Certainly  not,  my  boy.  What  would  be 
gained  by  that?  I  want  you  to  keep  right  on 
just  as  if  I  were  going  to  live  fifty  years  more." 

George  did  not  say  anything.  He  looked  at 
his  father  as  if  he  doubted  his  sanity. 

His  father  noticed  the  look  and  a  terrible 
wave  of  anguish  swept  over  him  as  he  recalled 


48  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

the  part  of  his  vision  in  which  he  had  seen  hia 
oldest  son  in  the  gambling-room. 

Again  the  prayer  he  had  been  silently  praying 
all  the  morning  went  up  out  of  his  heart,  "Al- 
mighty God,  show  me  how  to  use  the  seven  days 
most  wisely." 

"Father,"  said  Bess  suddenly,  "what  will  you 
do  about  Jim  and  Clara?  Did  you  know  they 
were  engaged?" 

"Bess!"  said  Clara  passionately.  Then  she 
stopped  suddenly,  and  seeing  her  father's  brow 
grow  dark,  she  cowered,  afraid  of  what  was 
coming.  But  Mr.  Hardy  looked  at  the  world 
differently  this  morning.  Twenty-four  hours 
before  he  would  have  treated  Bessie's  remark 
as  he  usually  treated  her  surprising  revelations 
of  the  secrets  of  the  family.  He  would  have 
laughed  at  it  a  little,  and  sternly  commanded 
Clara  to  break  the  engagement,  if  there  was 
one,  at  once.  For  James  Caxton  was  not  at 
all  the  sort  of  man  Mr.  Hardy  wanted  to  have 
come  into  the  family.  He  was  poor  to  begin 
with.  And  more  than  all,  his  father  had  been 
the  means  of  defeating  Mr.  Hardy  in  a  munio- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  49 

ipal  election  where  a  place  of  influence  and 
honor  was  in  dispute.  Mr.  Hardy  had  never 
forgotten  nor  forgiven  it.  When  he  began  to 
see  his  children  intimate  with  the  Caxtons,  he 
tried  to  forbid  their  going  to  the  house,  with 
the  result  already  described. 

Mr.  Hardy  looked  at  Clara  and  said  very 
tenderly : 

"Clara,  we  must  have  a  good  talk  about  this. 
You  know  your  father  loves  you  and  wants  you  to 
be  happy  and — "  Mr.  Hardy  stopped  in  his  emo- 
tion, and  Clara  burst  into  tears  and  left  the  table. 

"Come,"  cried  Mr.  Hardy  after  a  moment, 
during  which  no  one  seemed  inclined  to  speak; 
"let  us  ask  God  to  give  us  all  wisdom  at  this  time." 

George  made  a  motion  as  if  to  go  out.  "My 
son,'"'  called  Mr.  Hardy  after  him  gently,  "won't 
you  stay  with  the  rest  of  us  ?" 

George  sat  down  with  a  shamefaced  look, 
Alice  and  Clara  came  back,  and  Mr.  Hardy  read 
that  famous  Sixth  Chapter  of  Ephesians,  be- 
ginning, "Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the 
Lord."  Then  in  a  brief  but  earnest  prayer  he 
asked  God's  help  and  blessing  on  all  the  day, 


50  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

and  then  rose  to  face  it,  the  great  burden  of 
his  responsibility  beginning  to  rest  upon  him 
for  the  first  time.  He  sat  down  for  a  moment 
by  his  wife  and  kissed  her,  putting  his  arms 
about  her,  while  Bess  climbed  up  on  the  side 
of  the  couch  and  the  boys  stood  irresolute  and 
wondering.  Any  outward  mark  of  affection  was 
so  unusual  on  the  part  of  their  father  that  they 
felt  awkward  in  the  presence  of  it.  Mrs.  Hardy 
was  almost  overcome. 

"0  Robert,  I  cannot  bear  it!  Surely  it  was 
nothing  more  than  a  dream.  It  couldn't  have 
been  anything  more.  You  are  not  going  to  be 
called  away  from  us  so  soon." 

"Mary,  I  would  God  that  I  had  seven  years 
to  atone  for  my  neglect  and  selfishness  towards 
you  alone.  But  I  am  certain  that  God  has 
granted  me  but  seven  days.  I  must  act.  God 
help  me !  Boys,  you  will  be  late.  We  will  all  be 
at  home  this  evening.  Alice,  care  for  your 
mother  and  cheer  her  up.  You  are  a  good  girl 
and—" 

Again  Mr.  Hardy  broke  down  as  he  thought 
of  the  many  years  he  had  practically  ignored 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  51 

this  brave,  strong,  uncomplaining  nature  in  his 
own  house,  and  remorse  tore  him  fiercely  as  he 
recalled  that  he  had  practically  discouraged  aJl 
the  poor  girl's  ambitious  efforts  to  make  her 
way  as  an  artist,  not  on  account  of  the  expense 
— for  Mr.  Hardy  was  not  a  niggard  in  that  re- 
spect— but  because  he  had  a  false  idea  con- 
cerning the  profession.  He  looked  at  the  girl 
now  as  she  limped  across  the  floor  to  her 
mother,  her  pale,  intellectual  face  brightened 
by  her  love  and  her  eyes  shining  with  tears 
at  her  father's  unusual  praise.  "0  God,"  was 
the  inner  cry  of  Mr.  Hardy's  heart,  "what  have 
I  not  neglected  when  I  had  it  in  my  power  to 
create  so  much  happiness!"  The  thought  al- 
most unnerved  him.  And  for  a  moment  he  felt 
like  sitting  down  to  do  nothing.  But  only  for 
a  moment.  He  rose  briskly,  went  out  into  the 
hall  and  put  on  his  overcoat  and  coming  back 
a  moment,  said,  "I  am  going  down  to  see  poor 
Scoville  the  first  thing.  I  shall  be  so  busy  you 
'must  not  look  for  me  at  lunch.  But  1  will  be 
back  to  six  o'clock  dinner.  Good  bye!"  He 
kissed  his  wife  tenderly  and  she  clung  to  him 


52  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

sobbing.  Then  he  kissed  his  daughters,  a  thing 
he  had  not  done  since  they  were  babies,  and 
shook  hands  with  the  boys  and  marched  out 
like  one  going  to  execution,  something  bright 
glistening  in  his  own  eyes. 

Ah!  Ye  fathers  and  husbands,  you  who  are 
toiling  for  the  dear  ones  at  home,  how  many 
of  you  have  grown  so  unaccustomed  to  the  ten- 
der affections  of  home  that  your  own  wife  wou]  id 
almost  faint  and  think  something  was  going  'to 
happen  to  you  if  you  kissed  her  good-bye  when 
you  went  away  to  your  work  in  the  morning! 
How  do  you  know  that  she  who  has  been  your 
faithful  friend  and  lover  all  these  years,  and 
nursed  you  through  peevish  sickness  and  done 
a  thousand  things  every  day  for  you  without  so 
much  as  a  word  of  thanks  or  praise  on  your 
part,  how  do  you  know  she  does  not  care  for 
these  demonstrations  of  affection?  And  if  she 
does  not,  how  does  it  happen  except  through 
neglect?  Call  it  not  a  little  thing.  It  is  of 
such  little  things  that  Heaven  is  made,  and  it 
is  of  the  home  where  such  little  things  are 
found  that  it  can  truly  be  said,  "Love  is  master. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  53 

and  the  evil  one  cannot  find  an  entrance  to  blot 
with  hi:;  foul  tread  the  sweetest  thing  on  earth." 

Mr.  Hardy  hurried  down  towards  the  tene- 
ment where  Ward  Scoville  lived,  revolving  in 
his  mind  a*  he  went  along,  plans  for  his  future 
happiness  and  comfort. 

"I'll  deed  him  the  place  where  he  lives  and 
arrange  it  in  some  way -so  that  he  won't  have  to- 
go  to  the  hospital  or  come  on  the  county  when 
his  poor  wife  is  gone.  It  will  be  the  best  I  can 
do  for  him.  Poor  fellow !  What  a  shame  I  did 
not  come  down  last  night!  And  his  wife  a 
hopeless  invalid  and  the  oldest  child  only  four 
years  old,  Mary  said!" 

He  was  surprised  as  he  drew  near  the  house 
to  see  a  group  of  men  standing  there  outside 
and  talking  together  earnestly.  As  Mr.  Hardy 
came  up  they  stood  aside  to  let  him  pass,  but 
were  barely  civil. 

"Well,  Stevens,"  Mr.  Hardy  inquired  of  one 
of  the  men,  recognizing  him  as  one  of  the  em- 
ployes in  the  casting-room,  "how  is  Scoville 
this  morning?" 

"Dead!" 


54  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Mr.  Hardy  reeled  as  if  struck  in  the  breast 
with  a  heavy  blow. 

"Dead,  did  you  say  ?" 

"He  died  about  an  hour  ago,"  said  one  of  the 
other  men.  "The  surgeon  was  late  in  getting 
around,  and  after  the  amputation  it  was  ascer- 
tained that  Scoville  had  received  severe  internal 
injuries." 

"Was  he  conscious?"  Mr.  Hardy  asked  the 
question  mechanically,  but  all  the  while  his 
mind  was  in  a  whirl  of  remorse. 

"Yes,  up  to  the  last  moment." 

Mr.  Hardy  went  up  to  the  door  and  knocked. 
A  woman,  one  of  the  neighbors,  opened  and  he 
went  in.  The  sight  stunned  him.  The  dead  rrom 
had  been  removed  to  a  rear  room,  but  his  wife 
lay  upon  the  very  same  ragged  lounge  Mr.  Har- 
dy had  seen  in  his  dream.  The  surgeon  was  bend- 
ing over  her.  The  room  was  full  of  neighbors. 

The  surgeon  suddenly  arose  and  turning 
about,  spoke  in  a  quiet  but  decided  tone: 

"Now,  then,  good  people,  just  go  home,  witf 
you,  for  a  while?  And  suppose  some  of  you 
take  these  children  along  with  you.  You  can't 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  55 

•do  anything  more  now  and  your  presence  dis- 
turbs the  woman!  Ah,  Mr.  Hardy!"  he  ex- 
claimed, seeing  the  manager,  "you  here?  This 
is  a  sad  business.  Come,  now,  ladies,  I  must 
ask  you  to  retire." 

Everybody  went  out  except  the  surgeon,  the 
poor  woman's  sister,  and  Mr.  Hardy.  He  drew 
the  surgeon  over  to  the  window  and  inquired 
concerning  the  particulars.  Mr.  Hardy  had  re- 
ceived a  shock  at  the  very  first  and  he  trembled 
violently. 

"Well,  you  see,"  explained  the  surgeon,  "Sco- 
ville  was  a  dead  man  from  the  minute  of  the 
accident.  Nothing  could  have  saved  him. 
When  the  accident  happened  I  was  down  to 
Bayville  attending  the  men  who  were  injured 
in  the  wreck  last  Saturday.  I  telegraphed  that 
I  would  come  at  once.  But  there  was  a  delay 
on  the  road,  and  I  did  not  get  here  until  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Meanwhile  everything 
had  been  done  that  was  possible.  But  nothing 
could  save  the  poor  fellow.  This  shock  will  kill 
his  wife.  I  doubt  if  she  lives  through  the  day.'* 

"What  will  be  done  with  the  children?"  Mr. 


56  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Hardy  asked  the  question  mechanically,  again 
feeling  the  need  of  time  to  think  out  what  was 
best  to  be  done.  The  surgeon  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  He  was  accustomed  to  scenes  of  suf- 
fering and  distress  continually. 

"Orphans'  Home,  I  suppose,"  he  replied  la- 
conically. A  movement  and  a  moan  from  the 
woman  called  him  to  her  side  and  Mr.  Hardy 
was  left  alone.  He  thought  a  moment,  then 
stepped  over  to  the  surgeon  and  asked  him  if 
he  could  go  into  the  other  room  and  see  the 
dead  man.  The  surgeon  nodded  a  surprised  as- 
sent, and  Mr.  Hardy  stepped  into  the  rear  room 
and  closed  the  door.  He  drew  back  the  sheet 
from  the  face  of  the  man  and  looked  down  upon 
it.  Nothing  in  all  his  experience  had  ever 
moved  him  so  deeply.  The  features  of  the  dead 
man  were  fixed,  it  seemed  to  him,  in  an  expres- 
sion of  despair.  Mr.  Hardy  gazed  steadily  upon 
it  for  half  a  minute,  then  replacing  the  sheet 
he  kneeled  down  by  the  side  of  the  rude  bed 
and  prayed  God  for  mercy.  "0  Lord,"  he 
groaned  in  his  remorse,  "lay  not  the  death  of 
this  man  to  my  charge!"  And  yet,  even  as  he 


liobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  57 

prayed,  he  could  not  drive  back  the  thought 
which  chased  across  the  prayer,  "I  am  this 
man's  murderer.  I  issued  the  order  compelling 
the  Sunday  work.  I  refused  a  week  ago  to  in- 
spect the  retorts  which  were  declared  unsafe, 
on  the  ground  that  it  was  not  my  business.  1 
compelled  this  man  to  work  under  the  fear  of 
losing  his  place  if  he  refused  to  work.  I  com- 
pelled him  to  work  on  the  one  day  in  which  God 
has  commanded  all  men  to  rest.  I,  a  Christian 
by  profession,  a  member  of  the  church,  a  man 
of  means,  I  put  this  man  in  deadly  peril  upon 
a  Sunday  in  order  that  more  money  might  be 
made  and  more  human  selfishness  might  be 
gratified.  I  did  it.  And  this  man  once  saved 
my  life.  I  am  his  murderer,  and  no  murderer 
shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God." 

So  the  wretched  man  prayed  there  by  the 
side  of  that  cold  body,  and  yet  the  world  to-day 
goes  on  with  men  in  high  places  who  have  it  in 
their  power  to  change  the  conditions  that  exact 
Sunday  labor  from  thousands  of  weary  men 
and  drive  the  commerce  of  the  world  across  the 
continent  at  the  cost  of  that  priceless  thing,  the 


•58  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

eoul  of  man,  in  order  that  the  owners  of  rail- 
road stock  and  the  men  who  get  their  salaried 
living  from  it  may  have  more  money.  What! 
Is  it  not  true  that  every  Sunday  in  this  land  of 
Christian  homes  and  hearts  many  and  many  a 
well-fed,  sleek,  self-satisfied,  well-dressed  man. 
with  a  high  salary  and  well-established  social 
position,  with  a  luxurious  home  and  money  in 
the  bank,  goes  to  church  and  sits  down  in  a 
softly-cushioned  pew  to  listen  to  the  preaching 
of  the  gospel,  while  within  hearing  distance  of 
the  services  an  express  train  or  a  freight  thun- 
ders by  upon  the  road  which  declares  the  divi- 
dends that  make  that  man's  wealth  possible, 
and  on  those  trains  are  groups  of  coal-begrim- 
ed human  beings,  who  never  go  inside  a  church, 
who  never  speak  the  name  of  God  or  Christ  ex- 
cept in  an  oath,  who  lead  lives  that  are  as  desti- 
tute of  spiritual  nourishment  as  a  desert  of 
sand  and  rocks,  and  who  are  compelled  to  labor 
contrary  to  God's  everlasting  law  of  rest,  in 
order  that  man  may  have  more  to  feed  his  body 
and  indulge  his  passions!  Do  not  tell  us  it  is 
necessary  labor.  It  is  labor  for  the  making  of 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  59 

more  money.  It  does  not  need  to  be  done.  The 
community  could  dispense  with  it.  And  in  the 
sight  of  God  it  is  wicked  use  of  human  flesh 
and  blood  and  souls.  And  the  starved  spiritual 
natures  of  these  men  will  come  up  at  the  Judg- 
ment Day  before  the  men  who  had  it  in  their 
power  to  say,  "Not  a  wheel  shall  turn  on  these 
tracks  Sunday,  even  if  we  don't  make  a  little 
more  money."  Money  or  souls !  Which  is  worth 
more  in  the  thought  of  the  railroad  corpora- 
tions? Let  the  facts  make  answer. 

Mr.  Hardy  did  not  know  just  how  long  he 
kneeled  there  in  that  bare  room.  At  last  he 
arose  weariedly  and  came  out.  But  his  prayer 
had  not  refreshed  him.  The  surgeon  glanced  at 
him  inquisitively,  but  asked  no  questions.  The 
sick  woman  was  in  a  state  of  semi-consciousness. 
Mr.  Hardy's  cook,  her  sister,  sat  listlessly  and 
•worn  out  by  the  side  of  the  lounge.  The  sur- 
geon rapidly  gave  directions  for  the  use  of  some 
medicine  and  prepared  to  go.  Some  of  the 
neighbors  called  and  the  surgeon  let  two  of  the 
women  come  in.  Just  as  the  two  men  were  go- 
ing out  together,  Mr.  Hardy  still  absorbed  in 


60  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

his  great  desire  to  do  something  of  importance 
for  the  mother  and  her  children,  his  minister, 
Mr.  Jones,  appeared. 

He  looked  surprised  at  seeing  Mr.  Hardy,  in- 
quired the  news  of  the  doctor,  and  at  once 
asked  if  he  could  see  the  poor  widow.  The 
doctor  thought  it  would  do  no  harm.  Mr.  Jones 
whispered  to  Mr.  Hardy, 

"She  was  a  faithful  member  of  our  church, 
you  know." 

Mr.  Hardy  did  not  know  it,  to  his  shame  he 
confessed.  This  sister  of  his  in  Christ  had  been 
a  member  of  the  same  church  and  he  had  not 
even  known  it.  If  she  had  happened  to  sit  on 
the  same  side  of  the  building  where  he  sat,  he 
would  probably  have  wondered  who  that  plain- 
looking  person  was,  dressed  so  poorly.  But  she 
had  always  sat  back  on  the  other  side,  and  had 
been  one  of  a  few  poor  women  who  had  been 
attracted  into  the  church  and  been  comforted 
by  Mr.  Jones's  simple  piety  and  prayers. 

The  minister  kneeled  down  and  said  a  gentle 
word  to  the  woman.  Then  as  if  in  reply  to  a 
low- voiced  request  he  began  a  prayer  of  re- 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  61 

markable  beauty  and  comfort.  Mr.  Hardy  won- 
dered, as  he  listened,  that  he  could  ever  have 
thought  this  man  diill  in  the  pulpit.  He  sat 
down  and  sobbed  as  the  prayer  went  on  and  he 
took  to  himself  the  consolation  of  that  heavenly 
petition.  When  Mr.  Jones  rose,  Mr.  Hardy  still 
sat  with  his  hands  over  his  face.  The  surgeon 
was  called  out  by  some  one.  Then  the  minister, 
after  making  arrangements  with  the  woman 
who  had  come  in  for  the  funeral  of  Scoville, 
started  to  go  out,  when  Mr.  Hardy  rose  and 
they  went  away  together. 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  Mr.  Hardy  as  they  walked 
along,  "I  have  an  explanation  and  a  confession 
to  make.  I  haven't  time  to  make  it  now,  but  T 
want  to  say  that  I  have  met  God  face  to  face 
within  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  and  I  am 
conscious  for  the  first  time  in  years  of  the  in- 
tensely selfish  life  I  have  lived.  I  need  your 
prayer  and  help.  And  I  want  to  serve  the 
church  and  do  my  duty  there  as  I  have  never 
before  done  it.  I  have  not  supported  your  work 
as  I  should.  I  want  you  to  think  of  me  this 
week  as  ready  to  help  in  any  thing  in  my  power. 


62  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Will  you  accept  my  apology  for  my  contempt 
of  your  request  a  week  ago?  I  will  come  into 
the  meeting  Thursday  night  and  help  in  any 
way  possible." 

Mr.  Jones's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  He  grasp- 
ed Mr.  Hardy's  hand  and  said  simply, 

"Brother,  God  bless  you.  I&t  me  be  of  ser- 
vice to  you  in  any  way  I  can." 

Mr.  Hardy  felt  a  little  better  for  the  partial 
confession,  and  parted  with  his  minister  at  the 
next  corner,  going  down  to  his  office. 


.Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  63 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  DAY — CONTINUED. 

It  was  now  ten  o'clock  and  the  day  seemed 
to  him  cruelly  brief  for  the  work  he  had  to  do. 
He  entered  the  office  and  almost  the  first  thing 
he  saw  on  his  desk  was  the  following  letter  ad- 
dressed to  him,  but  written  in  a  disguised  hand : 

Mr.  Hardy: 

Us  in  the  casting-room  don't  need  no  looking 
after  but  maybe  the  next  pot  of  hot  iron  that 
explodes  will  be  next  the  offis  if  you  thinks  we 
have  bodies  but  no  sols  some  morning  you  will 
wake  up  beleving  another  thing.  Better  look 
to  house  and  employ  spesul  patrol;  if  you  do 
we  will  blak  his  face  for  him. 

There  was  no  signature  to  this  threatening 
scrawl  which  was  purposely  misspelled  and  un- 
grammatically composed.  Mr.  Hardy  had  re- 
ceived threats  before  and  paid  little  attention 
to  them.  He  prided  himself  on  his  steady 
nerves  and  his  contempt  of  all  such  methods 
used  to  scare  him.  Only  a  coward,  he  reasoned, 
would  ever  write  an  anonymous  letter  of  such 


64  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

a  character.  Still,  this  morning  he  felt  dis- 
turbed. His  peculiar  circumstances  made  the 
whole  situation  take  on  a  more  vivid  coloring. 
Besides  all  that,  he  could  not  escape  the  con- 
viction that  he  was  in  a  certain  sense  responsi- 
ble for  the  accident  in  the  casting-room.  It 
was  not  his  particular  business  to  inspect  ma- 
chinery. But  his  attention  had  been  called  to 
it,  and  he  felt  now  as  if  he  had  been  criminally 
careless  in  not  making  the  inspection  in  the 
absence  of  the  regular  officer.  An  investigation 
of  the  accident  would  free  Mr.  Hardy  from  legal 
responsibility.  But  in  the  sight  of  God  he  felt 
that  he  was  morally  guilty.  At  this  moment 
Mr.  Burns  came  in.  He  looked  sullen  and  spoke 
in  a  low  tone. 

"Only  half  the  men  are  back  this  morning, 
sir.  Scoville's  death  and  the  injuries  of  the 
others  have  had  a  bad  effect  on  the  men." 

Mr.  Hardy  crumpled  the  letter  nervously  in 
his  hand. 

"Mr.  Burns,  I  would  like  to  apologize  to  you 
for  my  neglect  of  the  injured  men.  Who  are 
they  and  how  badly  are  they  hurt?" 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  65 

Burns  looked  surprised  but  made  answer,  de- 
scribing briefly  the  accidents.  Mr.  Hardy  lis- 
tened intently  with  bowed  head.  At  last  he 
looked  up  and  said  abruptly: 

"Come  into  the  casting-room." 

They  went  out  of  the  office,  passed  through 
the  repairing  shops  and  entered  the  foundry 
department.  Even  on  that  bright  winter  morn- 
ing, with  the  air  outside  so  clear  and  cool,  the 
atmosphere  in  this  place  was  murky  and  close. 
The  forges  in  the  blacksmith  room  at  the  far- 
ther end  glowed  through  the  smoke  and  dust 
like  smouldering  piles  of  rubbish  dumped  here 
and  there  by  chance  upon  some  desolate  moor 
and  stirred  by  ill-omened  demons  of  the  nether 
world.  Mr.  Hardy  shuddered  as  he  thought  of 
standing  in  such  an  atmosphere  all  day  to  work 
at  severe  muscular  toil.  He  recalled  with  a 
sharp  vividness  a  request  made  only  two  months 
before  for  dust  fans  which  had  proved  success- 
ful in  other  shops,  and  which  would  remove  a 
large  part  of  the  heavy,  coal-laden  air,  supply- 
ing fresh  air  in  its  place.  The  company  had 
refused  the  request,  and  had  even  said  through 


C6  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

one  of  its  officers  that  when  the  men  wore  our, 
the  company  could  easily  get  more.  Mr.  Hardy 
and  the  foreman  paused  at  the  entrance  to  the 
casting-room  where  the  men  had  been  injured 
the  day  before.  A  few  men  were  working  sul- 
lenly. Mr.  Hardy  asked  the  foreman  to  call  the 
men  together  near  the  other  end  of  the  room; 
ho  wanted  to  say  something  to  them.  He  walk- 
ed over  there  while  the  foreman  spoke  to  the 
men.  They  dropped  their  tools  and  came  over 
to  where  Mr.  Hardy  was  standing.  They  were 
mostly  Scandinavians  and  Germans,  with  a 
sprinkling  of  Irish  and  Americans.  Mr.  Hardy 
looked  at  them  thoughtfully.  They  were  a 
hard-looking  crowd.  Then  he  said  very  slowly 
and  distinctly: 

"You  may  quit  work  until  after  Scoville's 
funeral.  Themachinery  here  needs  overhauling." 

The  men  stood  impassive  for  a  moment. 
Finally  a  big  Dane  stepped  up  and  said: 

"We  be  no  minded  to  quit  work  these  times. 
We  no  can  afford  it.  Give  us  work  in  some 
other  place." 

Mr.  Hardy  looked  at  him  and  replied  quietly : 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  67 

"The  wages  will  go  on  just  the  same  while 
yon  are  out." 

There  was  a  perceptible  stir  among  the  men. 
They  looked  confused  and  incredulous.  Mr. 
Hardy  still  looked  at  them  thoughtfully.  Fi- 
nally the  big  Dane  stepped  forward  again  and 
said,  speaking  more  respectfully  than  he  did  at 
first: 

"Mr.  Hardy,  we  be  thinking  maybe  you  would 
like  to  help  towards  him  the  family  of  the  dead 
and  others  as  be  hurt.  I  been  pointed  to  take 
up  purse  for  poor  fellows  injured.  We  all  take 
hand  in't.  My  brother  be  one  lose  his  two  eyes/' 

A  tear  actually  rolled  down  the  grimy  cheek 
of  the  big  fellow  and  dropped  into  the  coal  dust 
at  his  feet.  Mr.  Hardy  realized  that  he  was 
looking  at  a  brother  man.  He  choked  down  a 
sob,  and  putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket  pulled 
out  all  the  change  he  had  and  poured  it  into 
the  Dane's  hand.  Then  seeing  that  it  was  only 
four  or  five  dollars,  he  pulled  out  his  purse  and 
emptied  that  of  its  bills,  while  Burns,  the  fore- 
man, and  all  the  men  looked  on  in  stupefied 
wonder. 


68  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"No,  no  thanks!  I'll  do  something  more." 
Mr.  Hardy  walked  away  feeling  as  if  the 
ground  was  heaving  under  him.  What  was  all 
his  money  compared  with  that  life  that  had 
been  sacrificed  in  that  gas-poisoned  sepulcher! 
He  could  not  banish  from  his  mind  the  picture 
of  that  face  as  it  looked  to  him  when  he  drew 
back  the  sheet  and  looked  at  it.  He  hurried 
back  to  the  office  through  the  yard  and  sat 
down  at  the  well-worn  desk.  The  mail  had 
come  in  and  half  a  dozen  letters  lay  there.  He 
looked  at  them  and  shuddered.  What  did  it  all 
amount  to,  this  grind  of  business,  when  the 
heart-ache  of  the  world  called  for  so  much  sym- 
pathy! Then  over  him  came  the  sense  of  his 
obligations  to  his  family,  Clara's  need  of  a 
father's  help,  George  going  to  the  bad,  Alice 
in  need  of  sympathy,  his  wife  weeping  even  now 
at  home,  the  church  and  Sunday-school  where 
he  had  been  of  such  little  use,  the  family  of  Sco- 
ville  to  be  provided  for,  the  other  injured  men 
to  be  visited,  improvements  for  the  welfare  of 
the  men  in  the  shops  to  be  looked  after,  and  the 
routine  of  his  business;  all  these  things  crowd- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  69 

ed  in  upon  him,  and  still  he  saw  the  Face  and 
heard  the  Voice  of  Eternity,  "Seven  days  more 
to  live!" 

He  sank  into  a  revery  for  a  moment.  He 
was  roused  by  the  sounding  of  the  noon  whistle. 
What,  noon  already  ?  So  swiftly  had  the  time 
gone.  He  turned  to  his  desk  bewildered  and 
picked  up  his  letters,  gianccd  over  them  hur- 
riedly, and  then  gave  directions  for  the  an- 
swers of  some  of  them  to  his  impatient  clerk 
who  had  been  wondering  at  his  employers 
strange  behavior  this  morning.  Among  the 
letters  was  one  which  made  his  cheek  burn  with 
self-reproach.  It  was  an  invitation  to  a  club 
dinner  to  be  given  that  evening  in  honor  of 
some  visiting  railroad  president. 

It  was  just  such  an  occasion  as  he  had  en- 
joyed very  many  times  before,  and  the  recollec- 
tion brought  to  mind  the  number  of  times  he 
had  gone  away  from  his  own  home  and  left  his 
wife  sitting  drearily  by  the  fire.  How  could 
he  have  done  it!  He  tossed  the  gilded  invita- 
tion fiercely  into  the  waste  basket  and  rising, 
walked  his  room  thinking,  thinking.  He  had 


70  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

so  much  to  do  and  so  little  time  to  do  it  in.  He 
thought  thus  a  moment,  then  went  out  and 
walked  rapidly  over  to  the  hotel  where  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  getting  lunch  when  he  did  not 
go  home.  He  ate  a  little,  hurriedly,  and  then 
hastened  out.  As  he  was  going  out  upon  the 
sidewalk  two  young  men  came  in  and  jostled 
against  him.  They  were  smoking  and  talking 
in  a  loud  tone.  Mr.  Hardy  caught  the  sound  of 
his  own  name.  He  looked  at  the  speaker,  and 
it  was  the  face  of  the  young  man  he  had  seen 
in  his  dream,  the  one  who  had  insulted  George 
and  struck  him  afterwards.  For  a  moment  Mr. 
Hardy  was  tempted  to  confront  the  youth  and 
inquire  into  his  son's  habits. 

"No,"  he  said  to  himself  after  a  pause,  "I 
will  have  a  good  talk  with  George  himself.  That 
will  be  the  best."  He  hurried  back  to  the  office 
and  arranged  some  necessary  work  for  his  clerk, 
took  a  walk  through  the  other  office,  then  went 
to  the  telephone  and  called  up  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  Sunday-school,  who  was  a  book- 
keeper in  a  clothing  house.  He  felt  an  intense 
desire  to  arrange  for  an  interview  with  him  ;is 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  71 

soon  as  possible.  Word  came  back  from  the 
house  that  the  superintendent  had  bven  called 
out.  of  town  by  serious  illness  in  his  old  home 
and  would  not  be  back  until  Saturday.  Mr. 
Hardy  felt  a  disappointment  more  keen  than 
the  occasion  seemed  to  warrant.  He  was  con- 
scious that  the  time  was  very  brief.  He  had 
fully  made  up  his  mind  that  so  far  M  in  him 
lay  he  would  redeem  his  selfish  past  and  make 
a  week  such  as  few  men  ever  made.  He  was 
just  beginning  to  realize  that  circumstances  are 
not  always  in  our  control.  We  are  all  obliged 
to  wait  for  time  to  do  some  things.  We  cannot 
redeem  seven  years  of  selfishness  with  seven 
days  of  self-denial.  The  death  of  Scoville  re- 
vealed to  Mr.  Hardy  his  powerlessness  in  the 
face  of  certain  possibilities.  He  now  feared 
that  the  superintendent  would  fail  to  return  in 
time  to  let  him  confess  to  him  his  just  sorrow 
for  his  lack  of  service  in  the  school.  He  sat 
down  to  his  desk  and  under  that  impulse  wrote 
a  letter  that  expressed  in  part  how  he  felt. 
Then  he  jotted  down  the  following  items  to  be 
referred  to  the  proper  authorities  of  the  road. 


72  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Item  1. — The  dust  in  the  blacksmith  shop 
and  in  the  brass-polishing  rooms  is  largely  un- 
necessary. The  new  Englefield  revolving  roll- 
ing fans  and  elevator  ought  to  be  introduced  in 
both  departments.  The  cost  would  be  but  an 
item  to  the  road,  and  would  prolong  the  life 
and  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  employes.  Very 
important. 

Item  2. — Organized  and  intelligent  effort 
should  be  made  by  all  railroad  corporations  to 
lessen  Sunday  work  in  shops  and  on  the  road. 
All  imperishable  freight  should  be  so  handled 
as  to  call  for  the  services  of  as  few  men  on 
Sunday  as  possible,  and  excursion  and  passen- 
ger trains  should  be  discontinued  except  in 
cases  of  unavoidable  necessity. 

Item  3. — The  inspection  of  boilers,  retorts 
castings,  machinery  of  all  kinds,  should  be 
made  by  thoroughly  competent  and  responsible 
men  who  shall  answer  for  all  unnecessary  acci- 
dents by  swift  and  severe  punishment  in  case 
of  loss  of  life  and  limb. 

Item  4. — In  case  of  injury  or  death  to  em- 
ployes, if  incurred  through  the  neglect  of  the 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  73 

company  to  provide  safety,  it  should  provide 
financial  relief  for  the  families  thus  injured  or 
stricken  by  death,  and  so  far  as  possible  arrange 
for  their  future. 

Item  5. — Any  well-organized  railroad  could 
with  profit  to  its  employes  have  upon  its  staff  of 
salaried  men  a  corps  of  chaplains  or  preachers, 
whose  business  it  would  be  to  look  after  the 
religious  interests  of  the  employes.  (Under 
this  item  Mr.  Hardy  wrote  in  footnote :  Discuss 
feasibility  of  this  with  Mr.  B — ,  influential  di- 
rector.) 

It  was  now  three  o'clock.  The  short  winter 
day  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close.  The  hum  of 
the  great  engine  in  the  machine  shop  was  grow- 
ing very  wearisome  to  the  manager.  He  felt 
sick  of  its  throbbing  tremor  and  longed  to  es- 
cape from  it.  Ordinarily  he  would  have  gone 
to  the  club  room  and  had  a  game  of  chess  with 
a  member,  or  else  he  would  have  gone  down  and 
idled  away  an  hour  or  two  before  supper  at  the 
Art  Museum,  where  he  was  a  constant  visitor. 
That  was  when  he  had  plenty  of  time  and  the 
business  of  the  office  was  not  pressing.  Young 


74  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Wellman,  however,  had  succeeded  to  the  clerical 
details  of  the  shops,  and  Mr.  Hardy's  time  was 
generally  free  after  four.  He  had  been  op- 
pressed with  the  thought  of  the  other  injured 
men.  He  must  go  and  see  them.  He  could  not  rest 
easy  till  he  had  personally  visited  them.  He 
went  out  and  easily  ascertained  where  the  men 
lived.  Never  before  did  the  contrast  between 
the  dull,  uninteresting  row  of  shop  tenements 
and  his  own  elegant  home  rise  up  so  sharply 
before  him.  In  fact,  he  had  never  given  it  much 
thought  before.  Now  as  he  looked  forward  to 
the  end  of  the  week,  and  knew  that  at  its  close 
he  would  be  no  richer,  no  better  able  to  enjoy 
luxuries  than  the  dead  man  lying  in  No.  760. 
he  wondered  vaguely  but  passionately  how  he 
could  make  use  of  what  he  had  heaped  together 
to  make  the  daily  lives  of  some  of  these  poor 
men  happier.  He  found  the  man  who  had  lost 
both  eyes  sitting  up  in  bed  and  feeling,  in  a 
pathetic  manner,  of  a  few  blocks  of  wood  which 
one  of  the  children  in  the  room  had  brought 
to  him.  He  was  a  big,  powerful  man  like  his 
brother,  the  large-boned  Dane,  and  it  seemed  a 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  75 

very  pitiful  thing  that  he  should  he  lying  there 
like  a  baby  when  his  muscles  were  as  powerful 
as  ever.  The  brother  was  in  the  room  with  the 
injured  man  and  he  said  to  him: 

"Olaf,  Mr.  Hardy  come  to  see  you." 

"Hardy?  Hardy?"  queried  the  man  in  a 
peevish  tone.  "What  do  I  know  him  to  be  ?" 

"The  manager.  The  one  who  donate  so  real- 
ly much  moneys  to  you." 

"Ah?"  with  an  indescribable  accent.  "lie 
make  me  work  on  a  Sunday.  He  lose  me  my 
two  eyes.  A  bad  man,  Svord!  I  will  no  have 
anything  to  do  with  him." 

And  the  old  descendant  of  a  thousand  kings 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  would  not  even 
so  much  as  make  a  motion  towards  his  visitor. 
His  brother  offered  a  rude  apology.  Mr.  Hardy 
replied  in  a  low  tone, 

"Say  nothing  about  it.  I  deserve  all  your 
brother  says.  But  for  a  good  reason  I  wish  he 
would  say  he  forgives  me.  Olaf." 

Mr.  Hardy  came  nearer  the  bed  and  spoke 
very  earnestly  and  as  if  he  had  known  the  man 
intimately, 


76  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"I  did  you  a  great  wrong  to  order  the  work 
on  Sunday,  and  in  not  doing  my  duty  concern- 
ing the  inspection  of  the  machinery.  I  have 
come  to  say  so,  and  to  ask  jrour  forgiveness.  I 
may  never  see  you  again.  Will  you  say  to  mo, 
'Brother,  I  forgive  you'  ?" 

There  was  a  moment  of  absolute  passivity  on 
the  part  of  the  big  fellow,  then  a  very  large 
and  brawny  hand  was  extended  and  the  blind 
man  said: 

"Yes,  I  forgive.  We  learned  that  in  the  old 
Bible,  at  Svendorf." 

Mr.  Hardy  laid  his  hand  in  the  other,  and  his 
lips  moved  in  a  prayer  of  humble  thanksgiving. 
What!  Kobert  Hardy!  Is  this  that  proud 
man  who  only  the  day  before  was  so  lifted  up 
with  selfishness  that  he  could  coldly  criticize  his 
own  minister  for  saying  that  people  ought  to 
be  more  Christ-like !  Are  you  standing  here  in 
this  poor  man's  house  which  two  days  ago  you 
would  not  have  deigned  to  enter,  and  beseeching 
him  as  your  brother  in  the  great  family  of  God 
to  forgive  you  for  what  you  have  done  and  left 
undone?  Yes,  you  have  looked  into  the  Face 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  77 

of  Eternity,  you  realize  now  what  life  really 
means  and  what  souls  are  really  worth. 

He  went  out,  after  a  few  words  with  the 
family,  and  saw  all  the  other  injured  men.  By 
the  time  he  had  finished  these  visits  it  was  dark, 
and  he  eagerly  turned  home,  exhausted  with  the 
day's  experience,  feeling  as  if  he  had  lived  in  a 
new  world  and  at  the  same  time  wondering  at 
the  rapidity  with  which  the  time  had  fled. 

He  sighed  almost  contentedly  to  himself  as 
he  thought  of  the  evening  with  his  family  and 
how  he  would  enjoy  it  after  the  disquiet  of  the 
day.  His  wife  was  there  to  greet  him,  and 
Alice  and  Clara  and  Bess  clung  about  him  as 
he  took  off  his  coat  and  came  into  the  beautiful 
room  where  a  cheerful  fire  was  blazing.  Will 
came  downstairs  as  his  father  came  in,  and  in 
the  brief  interval  before  supper  was  ready,  Mr. 
Hardy  related  the  scenes  of  the  day.  They 
were  all  shocked  to  hear  of  Scoville's  death,  and 
Mrs.  Hardy  at  once  began  to  discuss  some  plans 
for  relieving  the  family.  Bess  volunteered  to 
give  up  half  her  room  to  one  of  the  children 
and  Alice  quietly  outlined  a  plan  which  immc- 


73  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

diately  appeared  to  her  father  as  business-like 
and  feasible.  In  the  midst  of  this  discussion, 
supper  was  announced  and  they  all  sat  down. 

"Where  is  George?"  asked  Mr.  Hardy.  Or- 
dinarily he  would  have  gone  on  with  the  meal 
without  any  reference  to  the  boy,  because  he 
was  so  often  absent  from  the  table.  To-night 
he  felt  an  irresistible  longing  to  have  all  his 
children  with  him. 

"He  said  he  was  invited  out  to  supper  with 
the  Bramleys,"  said  Clara. 

Mr.  Hardy  received  the  announcement  in 
silence.  He  felt  the  bitterness  of  such  indiffer- 
ence on  the  part  of  his  oldest  son.  "What !"  he 
said  to  himself,  "when  he  knows  I  had  such  a 
little  while  left,  could  he  not  be  at  home  ?"  And 
then  almost  immediately  flashed  into  him  the 
self-reproach  even  stronger  than  his  condem- 
nation of  his  boy,  "How  much  have  I  done  for 
him  these  last  ten  3rears  to  win  his  love  and  pro- 
tect him  from  evil?" 

After  supper  Mr.  Hardy  sat  down  by  his  wife, 
and  in  the  very  act  he  blushed  with  shame  at  the 
thought  that  he  could  not  recall  when  he  had 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  79 

spent  an  evening  thus.  He  looked  into  her  face 
and  asked  gently, 

"Mary,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  Shall  I 
read  as  we  used  to  in  the  old  days  ?" 

"No,  let  us  talk  together,"  replied  Mrs.  Har- 
d)',  bravely  driving  back  her  tears.  "I  cannot 
realize  what  it  all  means.  I  have  been  praying 
all  day.  Do  you  still  have  the  impression  you 
had  this  morning?" 

"Mary,  I  am  if  anything  even  more  convinced 
that  God  has  spoken  to  me.  The  impression 
has  been  deepening  with  me  all  day.  When  I 
looked  into  poor  Scoville's  face,  the  terrible 
nature  of  my  past  selfish  life  almost  over- 
whelmed me.  Oh,  why  have  I  abused  God's 
goodness  to  me  so  awfully  ?" 

There  was  silence  a  moment.  Then  Mr.  Har- 
dy grew  more  calm.  He  began  to  discuss  what 
he  would  do  the  second  day.  He  related  more 
fully  the  interview  with  the  men  in  the  shop 
and  his  visits  to  the  injured.  He  drew  Clara  to 
him  and  began  to  inquire  into  her  troubles  in 
such  a  tender,  loving  way,  that  Clara's  proud, 
passionate,  wilful  nature  broke  down,  and  she 


80  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

sobbed  out  her  story  to  him  as  she  had  to  her 
mother  the  night  before. 

Mr.  Hardy  promised  Clara  that  he  would  see 
James  the  next  day.  It  was  true  that  James 
Cnxton  had  only  a  week  before  approached  Mr. 
Hardy  and  told  him  in  very  manful  fashion  of 
his  love  for  his  daughter,  but  Mr.  Hardy  had 
treated  it  as  a  child's  affair  and,  in  accordance 
with  his  usual  policy  in  family  matters,  had 
simply  told  Clara  and  Bess  to  discontinue  their 
visits  at  the  old  neighbor's.  But  now  that  he 
heard  the  story  from  the  lips  of  his  own  daugh- 
ter he  saw  the  seriousness  of  it,  and  crowding 
back  all  his  former  pride  and  hatred  of  the 
elder  Caxton  he  promised  Clara  to  see  James 
the  next  day.  Clara  clung  to  her  father  in  lov- 
ing surprise.  She  was  bewildered,  as  were  all  the 
rest,  by  the  strange  event  that  had  happened 
to  her  father,  but  she  never  had  so  felt  his  love 
before,  and  forgetting  for  awhile  the  signifi- 
cance of  his  wonderful  dream,  she  felt  happy  in 
his  presence  and  in  his  affection  for  her. 

The  evening  had  sped  on  with  surprising 
rapidity  while  all  these  matters  were  being  dia- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  81 

cussed,  and  as  it  drew  near  to  midnight  again, 
Robert  Hardy  felt  almost  happy  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  that  home  and  the  thought  that  he 
could  still  for  a  little  while  create  joy  for 
those  who  loved  him.  Suddenly  he  spoke  of  his 
other  son: 

"I  wish  George  would  come  in.  Then  our  fam- 
ily circle  would  be  complete.  But  it  is  bedtime 
for  you,  Bess,  and  all  of  us,  for  that  matter." 

It  was  just  then  that  steps  were  heard  on  the 
front  porch  and  voices  were  heard  as  if  talking 
in  whispers.  The  bell  rang.  Mr.  Hardy  rose  to 
go  to  the  door.  His  wife  clung  to  him  terrified. 

"Oh,  don't  go,  Robert !  I  am  afraid  for  you." 

"Why,  Mary,  it  cannot  be  anything  to  harm 
me.  Don't  be  alarmed." 

Nevertheless  he  was  a  little  startled.  The 
day  had  been  a  trying  one  for  him.  He  went 
to  the  door,  his  wife  and  the  children  following 
him  close  behind.  He  threw  it  wide  open,  and 
there,  supported  by  two  of  his  companions,  one 
of  them  the  young  man  Mr.  Hardy  had  seen  in 
the  hotel  lobby  at  noon,  was  his  son  George,  too 
drunk  to  stand  alone,  and  he  leered  into  the 


82  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Day8. 

faces  of  his  father  and  mother  with  a  drunkes 
look  that  froze  their  souls  with  despair,  as  tlw 
blaze  of  the  hall  lamp  fell  upon  him  reeling 
there.  And  so  the  first  of  Kobert  Hardy'* 
.Seven  Days  came  to  an  end. 


.Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  83 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SECOND  DAY. 

Mr.  Hardy  was  a  man  of  great  will  power, 
but  this  scene  with  his  drunken  son  crushed 
him  for  a  moment  and  seemed  to  take  the  very 
eoul  out  of  him.  Mrs.  Hardy  at  first  uttered 
&  wild  cry  and  then  ran  forward  and  seizing 
her  eldest  boy,  almost  dragged  him  into  the 
house,  while  Mr.  Hardy,  recovering  from  his 
first  shock,  looked  sternly  at  the  companions 
of  the  boy  and  then  shut  the  door.  That  night 
was  a  night  of  sorrow  in  that  family.  The  sor- 
row of  death  is  not  to  be  compared  with  it. 

But  morning  came,  as  it  comes  alike  to  the 
condemned  criminal  and  to  the  pure-hearted 
child  on  a  holiday,  and  after  a  brief  and 
troubled  rest  Mr.  Hardy  awoke  to  his  second 
day,  the  memory  of  the  night  coming  to  him 
at  first  as  an  ugly  dream,  but  afterwards  as  a 
terrible  reality.  His  boy  drunk !  He  could  not 
make  it  seem  possible.  Yet  there  in  the  next 


84  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

room  ho  lay,  in  a  drunken  stupor,  sleeping  off 
the  effects  of  his  debauch  of  the  night  before. 
Mr.  Hardy  fell  on  his  knees  and  prayed  for 
mercy,  again  repeating  the  words,  "Almighty 
God,  help  me  to  use  the  remaining  days  in  the 
wisest  and  best  manner."  Then  calming  him- 
self by  a  tremendous  effort  he  rose  up,  and 
faced  the  day's  work  as  bravely  as  any  man  un- 
der such  circumstances  could. 

After  a  family  council  in  which  all  of  them 
were  drawn  nearer  together  than  they  ever  had 
been  before,  on  account  of  their  troubles,  Mr 
Hardy  outlined  the  day's  work  something  as 
follows : 

First  he  would  go  and  see  James  Caxton  and 
talk  over  the  affair  between  him  and  Clara. 
Then  he  would  go  down  to  the  office  and  ar- 
range some  necessary  details  of  his  business. 
If  possible  he  would  come  home  to  lunch.  In 
the  afternoon  he  would  go  to  poor  Scoville's 
funeral,  which  had  been  arranged  for  two 
o'clock.  Mrs.  Hardy  announced  her  intention 
to  go  also.  Then  Mr.  Hardy  thought  he  would 
have  a  visit  with  Georie  and  snend  the  evening: 


UP 
e       «v?  * 

Robert  Hardy's  Seven 


at  home,  arranging  matters  with  reference  to 
his  own  death.  With  this  program  in  mind  he 
finally  went  away,  after  an  affectionate  leave- 
taking  with  his  wife  and  children. 

George  slept  heavily  until  the  middle  of  the 
forenoon,  and  then  awoke  with  a  raging  head- 
ache. Bess  had  several  times  during  the  morn- 
ing stolen  into  the  room  to  see  if  her  brother 
was  awake.  When  he  did  finally  turn  over  and 
open  his  eyes  he  saw  the  young  girl  standing  by 
the  bedside.  He  groaned  as  he  recalled  the 
night  and  his  mother's  look,  and  Bess  said 
timidly,  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  forehead: 

"George,  I'm  so  sorry  for  you.  Don't  you 
feel  well?" 

"I  feel  as  if  my  head  would  split  open.  It 
aches  as  if  some  one  was  chopping  wood  inside 
of  it!" 

"What  makes  you  feel  so  ?"  asked  Bess  inno- 
cently. "Did  you  eat  too  much  supper  at  the 
Bramleys?"  Bess  had  never  seen  any  one  drunk 
before,  and  when  George  was  helped  to  bed 
the  night  before  by  his  father  and  mother  she 
did  not  understand  his  condition.  She  had  al- 


86  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

ways  adored  her  big  brother.  It  was  not 
strange  she  had  no  idea  of  his  habits. 

George  looked  at  his  small  sister  curiously, 
and  then  under  an  impulse  he  could  not  ex- 
plain, he  drew  her  nearer  to  him  and  said: 

"Bess,  I'm  a  bad  fellow.  I  was  drunk  last 
night.  Drunk — do  you  understand  ?  And  I've 
nearly  killed  mother." 

Bess  was  aghast  at  the  confession.  She  put 
out  her  hand  again. 

"Oh,  no,  George!"  Then  with  a  swift  revul- 
sion of  feeling  she  drew  back  and  said:  "How 
could  you,  with  father  feeling  as  he  does?" 

And  little  Bess,  who  was  a  creature  of  very- 
impulsive  emotions,  sat  down,  crying,  on  what 
she  supposed  was  a  cushion,  but  which  was 
George's  tall  hat  accidentally  covered  with  one 
end  of  a  comforter  which  had  slipped  off  the 
bed.  Bess  was  a  very  plump  little  creature,  and 
as  she  picked  herself  up  and  held  up  the  hat. 
George  angrily  exclaimed: 

"You're  always  smashing  my  things !" 

But  the  next  minute  he  was  sorry  for  the 
words.  Bess  retreated  toward  the  door,  quiv- 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  87 

ering  under  the  injustice  of  the  charge.  At 
the  door  she  halted.  She  had  something  of 
Clara's  passionate  temper,  and  once  in  a  while 
she  let  even  her  adored  brother  George  feel  it, 
small  as  she  was. 

"George  Hardy,  if  you  think  more  of  your 
old  stovepipe  hat  than  you  do  of  your  sister,  all 
right !  You'll  never  get  any  more  of  my  month's 
allowance.  And  if  I  do  smash  your  things,  I 
don't  come  home  drunk  at  night  and  break 
mother's  heart.  That's  what  she's  crying  about 
this  morning — that,  and  father's  queer  ways. 
Oh,  dear!  I  don't  want  to  live.  Life  is  so  full 
of  trouble!" 

And  little  twelve-year-old  Bess  sobbed  in 
genuine  sorrow.  George  forgot  his  headache  a 
minute. 

'•'Come,  Bess,  come,  and  kiss  and  make  up. 
Honest  now,  I  didn't  mean  it.  I  was  bad  to 
say  what  I  did.  I'll  buy  a  dozen  hats  and  let 
you  sit  on  them  for  fun.  Don't  go  away  angry. 
I'm  so  miserable!" 

He  lay  down  and  groaned  and  Bess  went  to 
him  immediately,  all  her  anger  vanished. 


88  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"Oh !  let  me  get  you  something  to  drive  away 
your  headache.  And  I'll  bring  you  up  some- 
thing nice  to  eat.  Mother  had  Norah  save 
something  for  you — didn't  you,  mother  ?" 

Bessie  asked  the  question  just  as  her  mother 
came  in. 

Mrs.  Hardy  said  yes,  and  going  up  to  George 
sat  down  by  him  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  head 
as  his  sister  had  done.  The  boy  moved  un- 
easily. He  saw  the  marks  of  great  suffering  in 
his  mother's  face,  but  he  said  nothing  to  ex- 
press sorrow  for  his  disgrace. 

"Bess,  will  you  go  and  get  George  his  break- 
fast?" asked  Mrs.  Hardy,  and  the  minute  she 
was  gone  the  mother  turned  to  her  son  and 
said: 

"George,  do  you  love  me  ?" 

George  had  been  expecting  something;  differ- 
ent. He  looked  at  his  mother  as  the  tears  fell 
over  her  face,  and  all  that  was  still  good  in  him 
rose  up  in  rebellion  against  the  animal  part.  He 
seized  his  mother's  hand  and  carried  it  to  his 
lips,  kissed  it  reverently  and  said  in  a  low  tone : 

"Mother,  I  am  unworthy.     If  you  knew — " 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  89 

,  He  checked  himself  as  if  on  the  verge  of  con- 
fession. His  mother  waited  anxiously  and  then 
asked, 

"Won't  you  tell  me  all?" 

"No,  I  can't!" 

George  shuddered,  and  at  that  moment  Bess 
came  in  bearing  a  tray  with  toast  and  eggs  and 
coffee.  Mrs.  Hardy  left  Bess  to  look  after  her 
brother  and  went  out  of  the  room  almost  ab- 
ruptly. George  looked  ashamed,  and  after  eat- 
ing a  little,  told  Bess  to  take  the  things  away. 
She  looked  grieved,  and  he  said: 

"Can't  help  it,  I'm  not  hungry.  Besides,  I 
don't  deserve  all  this  attention.  Say,  Bess,  is 
father  still  acting  under  his  impression,  or 
dream,  or  whatever  it  was?" 

"Yes,  he  is,"  replied  Bessie  with  much  seri- 
ousness; "and  he  is  ever  so  good  now,  and 
kisses  mother  and  all  of  us  good-bye  in  the 
morning.  And  he  is  kind  and  ever  so  good.  I 
don't  believe  he  is  in  his  right  mind.  Will  said 
yesterday  he  thought  father  was  non  campus 
meantus  And  then  he  wouldn't  tell  me  what 


90  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

it  meant.    But  T  guess  be  doesn't  think  father 
is  just  right  intellectually.'" 

Now  and  then  Bess  got  hold  of  a  big  word 
and  used  it  for  all  it  would  repeat.  She  said 
intellectually  over  twice,  and  George  laughed  a 
little,  but  it  was  a  bitter  laugh,  not  such  as  a 
boy  of  his  age  has  any  business  to  possess.  He 
lay  down  and  appeared  to  be  thinking,  and  after 
awhile  said  aloud: 

"I  wonder  if  he  wouldn't  let  me  have  some 
money  while  he's  feeling  that  way  ?" 

"Who?"  queried  Bess.    "Father?" 

"What!  you  here  still,  Curiosity?  Better 
take  these  things  downstairs !" 

George  spoke  with  his  "headache  tone,"  as 
Clara  called  it,  and  Bess  without  reply  gathered 
up  the  tray  things  and  went  out,  while  George 
continued  to  figure  out  in  his  hardly  yet  sober 
brain  the  possibility  of  his  father  letting  him 
have  more  money  with  which  to  gamble.  And 
yet  in  the  very  next  room  Mrs.  Hardy  kneeled 
in  an  agony  of  petition  for  that  first-born  son. 
crying  out  of  her  heart,  "0  God,  it  is  more  than. 
I  can  bear !  To  see  him  growing  away  from  me 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  91 

so !  Dear  Lord,  be  Thou  merciful  to  me.  Bring 
him  back  again  to  the  life  he  used  to  live!  How 
proud  I  was  of  him !  What  a  joy  he  was  to  nie ! 
And  now,  and  now!  0  gracious  Father,  if  Thou 
art  truly  compassionate,  hear  me!  Hu^  not 
this  foul  demon  of  drink  done  harm  enough, 
that  it  should  still  come  into  my  honts!  Ah, 
but  I  have  been  indifferent  to  the  criea  of  other 
women,  but  now  it  strikes  me !  Spare  me,  great 
and  powerful  Almighty!  My  boy!  My  heart's 
hunger  is  for  him!  I  would  rather  see  him 
dead  than  see  him  as  I  saw  him  last  night! 
Spare  me,  spare  me,  0  God !"  Thui  the  mother 
prayed,  dry-eyed,  and  almost  despairing,  while 
he  for  whom  she  prayed  that  heart-broken  prayer 
calculated,  with  growing  coldness  of  mind,  the 
chances  of  getting  more  money  from  his  fathsr 
to  use  in  drink  and  at  the  gaming  table. 

0  appetite,  and  thou  spirit  of  gambling,  ye 
are  twin  demons  with  whom  many  a  fair-browed 
young  soul  to-day  is  marching  arm-in-arm, 
down  the  dread  pavement  of  hull's  vestibule, 
lined  with  grinning  skeletons  or  past  victims! 
And  yet  men  gravely  discuss  the  probability  of 


92  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

evil,  and  think  there  is  no  special  danger  in  a 
little  speculation  now  and  then.  Parents  say. 
"Oh,  my  boy  wouldn't  do  such  a  thing!"  But 
how  many  know  really  and  truly  what  their  boy 
is  really  doing,  and  how  many  of  the  young  men 
would  dare  reveal  to  their  mothers  or  fathers 
the  places  where  they  have  been  and  the  amuse- 
ments they  have  tasted,  and  the  things  for 
which  they  have  spent  their  money? 

Mr.  Hardy  went  at  once  to  his  neighbors, 
the  Caxtons,  who  lived  only  a  block  away.  He 
had  not  been  on  speaking  terms  with  the  family 
for  some  time,  and  he  dreaded  the  interview 
with  the  sensitive  dread  of  a  very  proud  and 
stern-willed  man.  But  two  days  had  made  a 
great  change  in  him.  He  was  a  new  man  in 
Christ  Jesus.  And  as  he  rang  the  bell  he  pray- 
ed for  wisdom  and  humility. 

James  himself  came  to  the  door  with  his 
overcoat  on  and  hat  in  hand,  evidently  just 
ready  to  go  down  town.  He  started  back  at  see- 
ing Mr.  Hardy. 

"Are  you  going  down  town?    I  will  not  come 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  93 

in  then,  but  walk  along  with  you/'  said  Mr. 
Hardy  quietly. 

So  James  came  out,  and  the  two  walked 
along  together.  There  was  an  awkward  pause 
for  a  minute,  then  Mr.  Hardy  said, 

"James,  is  it  true  that  Clara  and  you  are 
engaged  ?" 

"No,  sir;  that  is — not  exactly  what  you 
might  call  engaged.  We  would  like  to  be."  Mr. 
Hardy  smiled  in  spite  of  himself.  And  James 
added  in  a  quickened  tone,  "We  would  like  to 
be  with  your  consent,  sir?" 

Mr.  Hardy  walked  on  thoughtfully  and  then 
glanced  at  the  young  man  at  his  side.  He  was 
six  feet  tall,  not  very  handsome  as  Bess  had 
frankly  said,  but  he  had  a  good  face,  a  steady, 
clear  blue  eye,  and  a  resolute  air  as  of  one  who 
was  willing  to  work  hard  to  get  what  he  wanted . 
Mr.  Hardy  could  not  help  contrasting  him  with 
his  own  prematurely  broken-down  son  George, 
and  he  groaned  inwardly  as  he  thought  of  the 
foolish  pride  that  would  bar  the  doors  of  his 
family  to  a  young  man  like  James  Caxton  sim- 
ply because  he  was  poor  and  his  father  had  won 


9t  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

in  a  contested  election  in  which  the  two  older 
men  were  candidates  for  the  same  office. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  think  all  this.  Then 
he  said,  looking  again  at  the  young  man  with  a 
business-like  look, 

"Supposing  you  had  my  permission,  what  are 
your  prospects  for  supporting  my  daughter? 
She  has  always  had  everything  she  wanted. 
What  could  you  give  her?" 

The  question  might  have  seemed  cold  and 
business-like.  The  tone  was  thoughtful  and 
serious. 

A  light  flashed  into  James's  eyes,  but  he  said 
simply,  "I  am  in  a  position  to  make  a  thousand 
dollars  a  year  next  spring.  I  earn  something 
extra  with  my  pen  at  home." 

Mr.  Hardy  did  not  reply  to  this.  He  said. 
<:Do  you  know  what  a  wilful,  quick-tempered 
girl  Clara  is  ?" 

"I  have  known  her  from  a  little  child,  Mr. 
Hardy.  I  feel  as  if  1  know  her  about  as  well  as 
you  do." 

"Perhaps  you  know  her  better  than  I  do;  I 
do  not  know  my  child  as  I  should." 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  95 

The  tone  was  not  bitter  but  intensely  sad. 
The  j'oung  man  had  of  course  been  greatly 
wondering  at  this  talk  from  Mr.  Hardy,  and 
had  observed  the  change  in  his  manner  and  his 
speech.  He  looked  at  him  now  and  noted  the 
pale,  almost  haggard  face,  and  his  extremely 
thoughtful  appearance. 

"Mr.  Hardy,"  said  James  frankly,  "you  are 
in  trouble.  I  wish  I  could — " 

"Thank  you,  no,  you  can't  help  me  any  in 
this — except,"  continued  Mr.  Hardy  with  a 
faint  smile,  "except  you  solve  this  trouble  be- 
tween you  and  my  daughter." 

"There  is  no  trouble  between  us,  sir,"  re- 
plied James  simply.  "You  know  I  love  her  and 
have  loved  her  for  a  long  time,  and  I  believe  I 
am  able  to  support  her  and  make  her  happy. 
Won't  you  give  your  consent,  sir?  We  are  not 
children.  We  know  our  minds." 

James  was  beginning  to  speak  very  earnestly. 
He  was  beginning  to  hope  that  the  stern,  proud 
man  who  had  so  curtly  dismissed  him  a  little 
while  before  would  in  some  unaccountable  man- 
ner relent  and  give  him  his  heart's  desire.  Mr. 


96  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Hardy  walked  along  in  silence  a  little  way. 
Then  he  said  almost  abruptly, 

"James,  do  you  drink?" 

"No,  sir!" 

"Or  gamble?" 

"You  forget  my  mother,  Mr.  Hardy." 

The  reply  was  almost  stern.  Mrs.  Caxton's 
younger  brother  had  been  ruined  by  gambling. 
He  had  come  to  the  house  one  night  and,  in  a 
fit  of  anger  because  his  sister  would  not  give 
him  money  to  carry  on  his  speculation,  he  had 
threatened  her  life.  James  had  interposed,  and 
at  the  risk  of  his  own  life  had  probably  saved 
his  mother's.  Mrs.  Caxton  had  been  so  un- 
nerved by  the  scene  that  her  health  had  suf- 
fered from  it  seriously.  All  that  had  happened 
when  James  was  growing  out  of  boyhood.  But 
not  a  day  had  passed  that  the  young  man  did 
not  see  a  sad  result  of  that  great  gambling  pas- 
sion in  his  own  mother's  face  and  bearing.  He 
loathed  the  thought  of  a  vice  so  debasing  that 
it  ignored  all  the  tender  ties  of  kindred  and  was 
ready  to  stop  at  nothing  in  order  to  get  means 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  97 

for  its  exercise.  Mr.  Hardy  knew  the  story  and 
he  exclaimed: 

"Forgive  me,  James,  I  did  not  think !"  Then 
after  a  pause — "Are  you  a  Christian?  I  mean 
do  you  have  a  faith  in  the  revelation  of  God  to 
men  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  do  you  try  to 
live  according  to  His  teachings,  with  a  su- 
preme love  for  God  controlling  your  life  ?  Do 
you  live  every  day  as  if  it  might  be  the  last  you 
would  have  to  live?" 

James  started.  Was  Mr.  Hardy  out  of  his 
mind?  He  had  never  heard  him  talk  like  this 
before.  The  idea  of  Mr.  Hardy  caring  about 
his  religious  character  in  the  event  of  his  be- 
coming a  son-in-law,  was  an  idea  too  remote  for 
occurrence.  He  could  see,  however,  that  some 
very  powerful  change  had  taken  place  in  Mr. 
Hardy's  usual  demeanor.  His  words  also  pro- 
duced a  strong  effect  with  the  young  man.  He 
was  like  thousands  of  young  men — temperate, 
honest,  industrious,  free  from  vices,  strictly 
moral,  but  without  any  decided  religious  faith. 
"Am  I  a  Christian  ?"  he  asked  himself,  echoing 
Mr.  Hardy's  question.  No,  he  could  not  say 


98  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

that  he  was.  He  had  never  said  so  to  any  one. 
Ho  had,  in  fact,  never  been  confronted  with 
the  question  before.  So  he  replied  to  Mr. 
Hardy, 

"!N"o,  sir,  I  don't  think  I  am  what  would  be 
called  a  Christian.  And  as  for  living  as  if  every 
day  was  to  be  my  last — do  you  think  that  is 
possible,  sir?" 

Mr.  Hardy  did  not  answer.  He  walked  along 
thoughtfully.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation 
they  had  reached  the  corner  where  the  young 
man  turned  down  to  his  office,  and  the  two 
paused. 

"I  want  to  have  another  talk  with  you,"  Mr. 
Hardy  said.  "To-day  is  Tuesday.  Say  to- 
morrow evening.  I  want  to  see  your  father  also, 
and — "  Mr.  Hardy  was  on  the  point  of  saying 
that  he  wanted  to  ask  the  elder  Caxton's  for- 
giveness, but  for  some  reason  he  stopped  with- 
out doing  so.  James  exclaimed  eagerly  as  Mr. 
Hardy  turned  to  go: 

"Then  you  don't  forbid  my  entertaining  some 
hope  of  your  good  will  in  the  matter  of  my  love 
for  Clara?"  He  lowered  his  voice  and  spoke 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  99 

very  strongly.  "You  don't  forget  your  own 
youth,  and  the  way  in  which  you  yourself  be- 
gan your  home?" 

Mr.  Hardy  answered  never  a  word  to  this  ap- 
peal, but  looked  into  the  young  man's  face  with 
a  gaze  he  did  not  forget  all  day,  then  wrung 
his  hand  and  turned  on  his  heel  abruptly  and 
walked  rapidly  down  the  street.  James  looked 
after  him  as  he  disappeared  among  the  crowds 
of  people  going  to  their  business,  and  then 
turned  to  his  own  tasks.  But  something  in  him 
gave  him  hope.  Another  something  appealed 
all  day  to  his  inner  nature,  and  he  could  not 
shake  off  the  impression  of  Mr.  Hardy's  ques- 
tion,— "Are  you  a  Christian  ?"  And  even  when 
he  went  home  at  night  that  question  pursued 
him  more  strenuously  than  any  other,  and 
would  not  give  him  peace. 


100         Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 
CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  SECOND  DAY — CONTINUED. 

Robert  Hardy  reached  his  office  just  in  time 
to  see  Burns,  the  foreman,  go  out  of  a  side  door 
and  cross  the  yard.  The  manager  followed 
him  and  entered  the  machine  shop  in  time  to 
see  him  stop  at  a  machine  at  the  farthest  end 
of  the  shop  and  speak  to  the  man  at  work  there. 
The  mail  was  a  Norwegian,  Herman  by  name. 
He  was  running  what  is  called  a  planer,  a  ma- 
chine for  trimming  pieces  of  cold  metal  just 
from  the  foundry  or  the  casting-room.  He  was 
at  work  this  morning  on  one  of  the  eccentric 
bars  of  a  locomotive,  and  it  was  of  such  a  char- 
acter that  he  could  leave  the  machine  for  sev- 
eral minutes  to  do  the  planing.  Burns  talked 
with  this  man  for  awhile  and  then  moved  across 
the  floor  to  the  other  workman,  a  small-boned, 
nervous  little  fellow,  who  was  in  charge  of  a 
boring  machine  which  drove  a  steel  drill 
through  heavy  plates  of  iron  fastened  into  the 
frame. 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  101 

Mr.  Hardy  came  up  just  as  Burns  turned 
away  from  this  man,  and  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder.  The  foreman  started  and  turned 
about,  surprised  to  see  the  manager. 

"Well,  Burns,  how  goes  everything  this  morn- 
ing?" asked  Kobert. 

"The  men  here  are  grumbling  because  they 
don't  have  a  holiday  same  as  the  men  in  Sco- 
ville's  department." 

"But  we  can't  shut  down  the  whole  business, 
can  we?"  asked  Mr.  Hardy,  with  a  momentary 
touch  of  his  old-time  feeling.  "The  men  are 
unreasonable." 

"I'm  afraid  there'll  be  trouble,  sir.  I  can 
feel  it  in  the  air,"  replied  Burns. 

Mr.  Hardy  made  no  reply  in  words  but  looked 
about  him.  Within  the  blackened  area  of  the 
great  shop  about  two  hundred  men  were  at 
work.  The  whirl  of  machinery  was  constant. 
The  grind  of  steel  on  iron  was  blended  with  the 
rattle  of  chains  and  the  rolling  of  the  metal 
carriages  in  their  tracks.  The  Genius  of  Eail- 
roading  seemed  present  in  the  grim  strength 
and  rapidity  of  several  machines  which  moved 


102          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

almost  as  if  instinct  with  intelligence,  and 
played  with  the  most  unyielding  substances  as 
if  they  were  soft  and  pliable  clay.  In  the  midst 
of  all  the  smashing  of  matter  against  itself, 
through  the  smoke  and  din  and  dust  and  revo- 
lution of  the  place,  Mr.  Hardy  was  more  than 
usually  alive  this  morning  to  the  human  aspect 
of  the  case.  His  mind  easily  went  back  to  the 
time  when  he  himself  stood  at  one  of  these 
planers  and  did  just  such  work  as  that  big  Nor- 
wegian was  doing,  only  the  machines  were 
vastly  better  and  improved  now.  Mr.  Hardy 
was  not  ashamed  of  having  come  along  through 
the  ranks  of  manual  labor.  In  fact,  he  always 
spoke  with  pride  of  the  work  he  used  to  do  in 
that  very  shop,  and  he  considered  himself  able 
to  run  all  by  himself  any  piece  of  machinery 
in  the  shops.  But  he  could  not  help  envying 
these  men  this  morning.  "Why,"  he  said,  "prob- 
ably not  one  of  them  but  has  at  least  seven 
weeks  to  live,  and  most  of  them  seven  months 

or  years,  while  I .    Why  should  these  men 

complain  because  they  are  not  released  from 
toil?  Isn't  toil  sweet  when  there  is  a  strong 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          103 

body  and  a  loving  wife  and  a  happy  home  ?  0 
God !"  he  continued  to  think,  "I  would  give  all 
my  wealth  if  I  might  change  places  with  any 
one  of  these  men,  and  know  that  I  would  prob- 
ably have  more  than  a  week  to  live." 

Mr.  Hardy  walked  back  to  his  office,  leaving 
the  foreman  in  a  condition  of  wondering  as- 
tonishment. 

"Something  wrong  in  his  works,  I  guess,'' 
muttered  Burns. 

Mr.  Hardy  sat  down  to  his  desk  and  wrote  an 
order,  releasing  all  the  men  who  desired  to  at- 
tend Scoville's  funeral  in  the  afternoon.  He 
did  not  have  it  in  his  power  to  do  more,  and 
yet  he  felt  that  this  was  the  least  he  could  do 
under  the  circumstances.  The  more  he  thought 
of  Scoville's  death  the  more  he  felt  the  cruel 
injustice  of  it.  The  injuries  were  clearly  acci- 
dental. But  they  might  have  been  avoided  with 
proper  care  for  human  life.  And  Robert  Hardy 
was  just  beginning  to  understand  the  value  of 
humanity. 

He  worked  hard  at  the  routine  of  his  office 
work  until  noon.  He  did  what  seemed  to  him 


104          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

the  most  necessary  part  of  it  all  with  conscien- 
tious fidelity.  But  his  mind,  a  good  part  of  the 
time,  was  with  the  men  in  the  shops.  He  could 
not  escape  the  conviction  that  if  a  railroad  com- 
pany had  the  willingness  to  do  so,  it  could 
make  the  surroundings  of  these  men  safer  and 
happier  without  getting  poorer  work  or  even 
losing  any  money  by  it. 

When  noon  sounded  he  went  home  resolved 
to  do  something  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power  to 
make  the  men  feel  that  they  were  regarded  as 
something  more  than  machines. 

George  was  downstairs  when  his  father  came 
in  and  looked  at  him  with  curiosity  rather  than 
with  any  feeling  of  shame  for  the  scene  of  the 
night  before.  After  lunch  was  over,  Mr.  Hardy 
called  his  son  into  the  study  for  a  little  talk 
with  him  before  going  down  to  the  funeral. 

"I  do  not  need  to  tell  you,  George,"  began 
his  father,  quietly  but  with  feeling,  "that  I  felt 
the  disgrace  of  your  drunkenness  last  night 
very  bitterly.  You  cannot  know  the  feelings 
of  your  father  and  mother  in  that  respect.  But 
I  did  not  call  you  in  here  to  reproach  you  for 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  105 

your  vices.  I  want  to  know  what  you  intend 
to  do  in  the  face  of  the  present  conditions?7' 
Mr.  Hardy  paused,  then  went  on  again.  "I  am 
perfectly  aware,  George,  that  you  regard  my 
dream  as  a  fancy,  and  think  I  am  probably  out 
of  my  mind.  Isn't  that  true?"  Mr.  Hardy 
looked  George  full  in  the  face  and  the  young 
man  stammered, 

'•'Well — I — ah — yes — I — don't  just  under- 
stand—" 

"At  the  same  time,"  went  on  his  father,  "I 
realize  that  nothing  but  a  conviction  of  reality 
could  produce  the  change  in  me  which  you  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  family  must  acknowledge  has 
taken  place.  And  you  must  confess  that  I  am 
acting  far  more  rationally  than  I  did  before  my 
dream  occurred.  It  is  not  natural  for  a  father 
to  neglect  his  own  children,  and  I  have  done  it. 
It  is  not  rational  that  he  should  spend  his  time 
and  money  and  strength  on  himself  so  as  to 
grow  intensely  selfish,  and  I  have  done  that. 
My  son,  you  may  doubt  me,  but  I  am  firmly 
convinced  that  I  shall  not  be  alive  here  after 
next  Sunday.  I  am  trying  to  live  as  I  ought  to 


106          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

live  under  those  conditions.  My  son,"  Mr. 
Hardy  spoke  with  dignity  and  a  certain  im- 
pression which  George  could  not  but  feel,  "I 
want  you  to  do  as  you  know  you  ought  to  do 
under  the  circumstances.  When  I  am  gone 
your  mother  and  the  girls  will  look  to  you  for 
advice  and  direction.  You  will  probably  have 
to  leave  college  for  a  little  while.  We  will  talk 
that  over  this  evening.  But  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  that  you  will  not  touch  another 
glass  of  liquor  or  handle  another  card  as  long 
as  you  live." 

George  laughed  a  little  uneasily,  and  then 
lied  outright.  "I  don't  see  the  harm  of  a  game 
once  in  a  while  just  for  fun.  I  don't  play  for 
stakes  as  some  fellows  do.'*' 

''George/''  said  his  father  looking  at  him 
steadily,  "you  have  not  told  the  truth.  You 
were  gambling  only  a  few  nights  ago.  It  is  use- 
less for  you  to  deny  it.  That  is  where  the  very 
liberal  allowance  I  have  given  you  has  been 
squandered."  George  turned  deadly  pale  and 
sat  with  bowed  head  while  his  father  went  on 
almost  sternly,  "Consider  your  mother,  George, 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          107 

whose  heart  almost  hroke  when  you  came  in 
last  night.  I  don't  ask  you  to  consider  me.  I 
have  not  been  to  you  what  a  father  ought  to  be. 
But  if  you  love  your  mother  and  sisters,  and 
have  any  self-respect  left,  you  will  let  drink 
and  cards  alone  after  this.  In  the  sight  of  God, 
iriy  dear  boy,  remember  what  He  made  you  for. 
You  are  young,  you  have  all  of  life  before 
you.  You  can  make  a  splendid  record  if  God 
spares  your  life.  I  would  gladly  give  all  I  pos- 
sess to  stand  where  you  do  to-day,  and  live  my 
life  over  again.  I  can't  do  it.  The  past  is  irre- 
vocable. But  one  can  always  repent.  George, 
believe  me,  your  mother  would  rather  see  you 
in  your  coffin  than  see  you  come  home  again  as 
you  did  last  night.  We  love  you — " 

Mr.  Hardy,  proud  man  as  he  was,  could  say 
no  more.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  boy's  head 
as  if  he  were  a  young  lad  again,  and  said  sim- 
ply, "Don't  disappoint  God,  my  boy,"  and  went 
out  leaving  his  son  sitting  there  almost  over- 
come by  his  father's  powerful  appeal,  but  not 
yet  ready  to  yield  himself  to  the  still,  small 
voice  that  spoke  within  even  more  powerfully, 


108          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

and  whispered  to  him,  <rMy  son,  give  me  thine 
heart.  Cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well. 
Cleanse  thy  ways  andfollow  after  righteousness." 
It  was  one  o'clock  when  Mr.  Hardy  came 
downstairs,  and  as  he  came  into  the  room  where 
Mrs.  Hardy  and  the  girls  were  sitting,  he  hap- 
pened to  think  of  some  business  matters  be- 
tween himself  and  his  only  brother  who  lived 
in  the  next  town  twenty  miles  down  the  road. 
He  spoke  of  the  matter  to  Mrs.  Hardy,  and  she 
suggested  that  Will  go  down  on  the  three 
o'clock  train  with  the  papers  Mr.  Hardy  want- 
ed to  have  his  brother  look  over,  and  come  back 
on  the  six  o'clock  in  time  for  supper.  Clara 
asked  if  she  couldn't  go  too,  and  Bess  added  her 
request,  as  she  had  not  seen  her  aunt  for  some 
time.  Mr.  Hardy  saw  no  objection  to  their 
going,  only  he  reminded  them  that  he  wanted 
them  all  back  at  six.  Alice  volunteered  to 
amuse  George  at  home  while  all  the  rest  were 
gone,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hardy  departed  for  the 
funeral,  Mr.  Hardy's  thoughts  still  absorbed 
for  the  most  part  with  his  oldest  boy.  Clara 
had  asked  no  questions  concerning  the  inter- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  109 

view  with  James,  and  her  father  simply  stated 
that  they  could  have  a  good  talk  about  it  in  the 
evening. 

The  tenement  at  760  was  crowded,  and  in 
spite  of  the  wintry  weather  large  numbers  of 
men  and  women  stood  outside  in  the  snow.  Mr. 
Hardy  had  ordered  his  sleigh,  and  he  and  his 
wife  had  gone  down  to  the  house  in  that,  ready 
to  take  some  one  to  the  cemetery.  The  simple 
service  as  it  began  was  exceedingly  impressive 
to  Mr.  Hardy.  Most  of  the  neighbors  present 
looked  at  him  and  his  well-dressed  wife  in  sul- 
len surprise.  She  noticed  the  looks  with  a 
heightening  color.  But  Mr.  Hardy  was  too  much 
absorbed  in  his  thoughts  of  what  he  had  done 
and  left  undone  in  this  family,  to  be  influenced 
by  the  behavior  of  those  about  him.  Mr.  Jones 
offered  a  prayer  for  the  comfort  of  God  to  rest 
on  the  stricken  family.  He  then  read  a  few 
words  from  John's  gospel  appropriate  to  the 
occasion,  and  said  a  few  simple  words  mostly 
addressed  to  the  neighbors  present.  The  poor 
widow  had  been  removed  to  a  small  room  up- 
stairs, and  lay  there  cared  for  by  the  faithful 


110           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

sister.  The  minister  had  nearly  concluded  his 
remarks  when  a  voice  was  heard  in  the  room 
above,  voices  expostulating  in  alarm  and  grow- 
ing louder,  followed  by  a  rapid  movement  in  the 
narrow  hall  above;  and  with  a  scream  of  frenzy 
the  wife  rushed  down  the  stairs  and  burst  into 
the  room  where  the  dead  body  of  her  husband 
lay.  She  had  suddenly  awakened  out  of  the 
fainting  stupor  in  which  she  had  been  lying 
since  her  husband's  death  and  realized  what 
was  going  on  in  the  house,  with  a  quick  gather- 
ing of  passion  and  strength  such  as  even  the 
dying  sometimes  are  known  to  possess.  She 
had  escaped  from  her  sister  and  the  neighbor 
who  was  watching  with  her,  and  crazy  with 
grief,  flung  herself  over  the  coffin,  moaning 
and  crying  out  in  such  heart-breaking  accents 
that  all  present  were  for  a  moment  flung  into 
a  state  of  inaction  and  awe.  But  Mrs.  Hardy 
was  first  to  move  towards  the  stricken  woman. 
Where  did  the  wife  of  the  once  haughty  and 
proud  man  learn  the  touch  of  sympathy  that 
drew  that  other  poor  sister  nearer  to  her,  and 
finally  soothed  her  into  quietness?  Certain  it 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  Ill 

is  that  suffering  in  her  own  home  had  marvel- 
ously  taught  the  richly-dressed  woman,  the  re- 
fined, cultured  lady,  to  hold  this  other  one  to 
be  of  the  same  household  of  God  with  her.  And 
so  it  was  that  she  finally  succeeded  in  drawing 
her  away  in  the  other  room,  and  there  held  her, 
gasping  for  breath,  now  that  the  brief  strength 
was  spent,  and  crying  feebly,  "Oh,  0  God,  help 
me!  Don't  keep  me  here  in  this  world  any 
longer!" 

If  this  brief  scene  thrilled  the  neighbors  with 
pity,  what  shall  be  said  of  its  effect  on  Robert 
Hardy  ?  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  him  more 
than  he  could  bear.  He  started  to  his  feet  and 
put  his  hands  before  his  face.  Then  calming 
himself  by  a  great  effort  he  sat  down,  and  his 
face  became  almost  like  a  stone  in  its  rigidity. 
When  his  wife  finally  succeeded  in  getting  the 
woman  into  the  rear  room,  his  face  relaxed  and 
he  breathed  more  easily.  But  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble he  rose  and  went  out  and  stood  silent  there 
until  the  body  was  brought  out  and  placed  in 
the  hearse.  Then  he  went  in  and  spoke  a  few 
words  to  his  wife,  and  told  Mr.  Jones  that  he 


112  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

could  take  four  or  five  to  the  cemetery  if  they 
wished  to  go.  Mrs.  Hardy  would  stay  with  the 
suffering  widow  until  he  came  back.  Mr.  Hardy 
also  whispered  something  to  his  minister,  and 
gave  him  a  large  roll  of  bills  to  be  used  for  the 
family,  and  then  went  out  again.  That  ride  in 
the  cold  gray  of  the  declining  winter  afternoon 
was  a  bitter  experience  to  Robert.  He  roused 
himself  at  the  grave  as  he  heard  the  words, 
"Raise  us  from  the  death  of  sin  unto  the  resur- 
rection of  righteousness,"  and  something  like 
a  gleam  of  hope  shot  through  his  heart  at  the 
words.  Surely,  there  was  mercy  with  Him  who 
had  conquered  death  for  the  sake  of  the  human 
race.  He  drove  back  with  more  peace  of  soul 
than  he  had  thought  possible.  By  the  time  he 
had  reached  the  shop  tenements  it  was  growing 
dark.  He  drove  home  with  his  wife  and  thought 
with  something  of  a  feeling  of  pleasure  of  the 
evening  before  him  with  his  family.  This 
second  day  had  been  more  agitating  in  some 
ways  than  his  first. 

He  had  been  unnerved  at  the  funeral.     He 
felt  his  remorse  more  keenly  than  he  had  once 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          113 

thought  possible.  As  he  reviewed  the  events 
of  the  day  with  his  wife  he  felt  dissatisfied. 
And  yet  he  had  truly  tried  to  do  his  duty  in  the 
light  of  eternity.  What  more  could  he  do  ? 

He  felt  anxious  about  George  and  told  his 
wife  of  the  conversation  he  had  with  him.  Mrs. 
Hardy  felt  the  same  anxiety  with  her  husband. 
After  the  horses  were  put  up  and  the  father  and 
mother  had  gone  into  the  house  they  continued 
the  conversation.  Alice  was  upstairs  with 
George,  and  the  other  children  had  not  come 
back.  It  was  dark,  but  husband  and  wife  sat 
by  the  light  of  the  open  fire  and  talked  to- 
gether until  nearly  six  o'clock.  Mr.  Hardy  had 
just  said  something  about  Clara,  and  Mrs. 
Hardy  replied,  "Isn't  it  about  time  they  were 
here  ?"  when  the  telephone  bell  rang  in  the  lit- 
tle office  adjoining  the  hallway  where  Mr. 
Hardy  did  some  of  the  business  of  the  company, 
being  connected  by  wire  with  the  shops.  He 
went  in  and  answered  the  call  and  a  series  of 
sharp  exclamations  and  questions  was  soon  fol- 
lowed by  his  coming  back  into  the  room  where 
his  wife  sat.  By  the  light  of  the  open  fire  she 


114          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

could  see  that  he  was  very  pale.  His  overcoat 
was  lying  on  the  couch  where  he  had  thrown 
it  as  he  came  in.  He  hastily  put  it  on,  and  then 
said  to  his  wife,  "Mary,  there  has  been  an  ac- 
cident to  the  six  o'clock  way-train  between 
Baldwin  and  here,  and  Burns  has  telephoned 
me  to  come  down.  Don't  be  alarmed.  We  will 
hope  for  the  best." 

Mrs.  Hardy  started  up.  "Why,  Will  and  Bess 
and  Clara  were  coming  home  on  that  train !" 

"Mary,"  Mr.  Hardy's  voice  trembled,  but  he 
tried  to  speak  calmly  and  in  comfort,  "let  us 
hope  for  the  best." 

"What  did  Mr.  Burns  telephone?  Tell  me 
all,  Robert.  I  can  bear  it  with  you." 

"He  telephoned  that  the  train  was  derailed 
and  a  dozen  people  killed  and  as  many  injured 
But  I  must  go  down  the  road  at  once!  0  my 
God!  Spare  our  dear  ones!" 

Mr.  Hardy  was  almost  overwhelmed  by  this 
last  stroke  and  yet  he  asked  himself  how  many 
accidents  had  occurred  this  last  year  on  the 
road  and  he  had  never  given  much  thought  to 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          115 

the  suffering  of  those  families  afflicted?  Now 
perhaps  it  had  come  to  him.  And  bidding  his 
wife  pray  and  hope,  he  rushed  out  of  the  house 
and  down  to  the  station  with  the  energy  and 
rapidity  of  the  youth  who  in  college  days  had 
taken  prizes  for  athletic  superiority. 

At  the  yard  he  found  a  special  train  just 
ready  to  go  to  the  scene  of  the  accident.  It 
consisted  of  a  wrecking  car,  a  caboose,  and  one 
coach  with  tender  and  engine.  He  mounted 
the  engine  with  a  feeling  that  it  was  a  little 
nearer  the  fatal  spot  and  would  reach  there 
first.  At  the  last  minute  no  more  definite 
news  concerning  the  particular  persons  killed 
and  injured  had  been  received. 

Mr.  Hardy  felt  almost  glad  of  the  uncer- 
tainty as  the  engine  pulled  out  and  started  on 
its  ran  of  fifteen  miles,  soon  attaining  a  speed 
of  fifty-five  miles  an  hour.  The  snow  was  fall- 
ing in  large,  moist  flakes.  It  was  growing 
warmer  and  would  rain  before  morning.  He 
gazed  at  the  narrow  band  of  light  on  the  track 
ahead,  and  leaned  forward  as  if  to  help  the  en- 
gine go  faster.  He  did  not  speak.  And  so  the 


116           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

train  rushed  through  the  night.  And  so  the 
second  of  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days  drew  to 
a  close. 


Kobert  Hardy'a  Seven  Days,          117 


CHAPTER  VII. 
> 

THE  THIRD  DAY — WEDNESDAY. 

As  the  engine  drew  near  the  scene  of  the 
wreck,  a  great  crowd  could  be  seen  standing 
about  the  track.  Before  the  train  came  to  a 
stop,  Robert  Hardy  leaped  down  from  the  cab 
and  struggled  forward,  uttering  cries  of  which 
he  himself  probably  was  not  conscious.  The 
accident  had  occurred  upon  a  bridge  which 
spanned  a  small  river  in  the  vicinity  of  Baldwin. 
near  which  town  Mr.  Hardy's  brother  lived. 

The  engine,  mail  car,  two  day-coaches  and 
two  sleepers  had  crashed  through,  and  falling 
a  distance  of  fifty  feet  had  partly  broke?! 
through  the  ice  of  the  frozen  stream.  To  add 
to  the  horror  of  the  disaster  the  two  sleepers 
had  caught  fire,  and  there  was  absolutely  no 
means  to  fight  it.  Mr.  Hardy  caught  confused 
glimpses  of  men  down  on  the  ice  throwing  hand- 
fuls  of  snow  upon  blazing  timbers  in  a  frantic 


118          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

attempt  to  drive  back  or  put  out  the  flames. 
He  fell,  rather  than  scrambled,  down  the  steep, 
slippery  bank  of  the  stream,  and  then  the  fuil 
horror  of  the  situation  began  to  dawn  upon 
him. 

The  baggage-car  and  tender  had  fallen  in 
such  a  way  that  the  trucks  rested  upright  on 
the  ice,  and  the  position  of  the  timbers  was 
relatively  that  of  the  train  before  it  had  left 
the  track.  One  day-coach  lay  upon  its  side,  but 
had  broken  completely  in  two  as  if  some  giant 
hand  had  pulled  it  apart,  leaving  the  ragged 
ends  of  timbers  projecting  towards  one  another 
in  such  curious  fashion  that  if  the  two  ends  of 
the  car  had  been  pushed  towards  the  middle 
the  splintered  beams  would  have  fitted  into 
place  almost  as  if  made  on  a  pattern.  The 
other  day-coach  had  fallen  upon  one  end,  and 
one-third  of  the  entire  coach  was  under  water. 
The  other  end,  resting  partly  against  the 
broken  car,  stuck  up  in  the  air  like  some  cu- 
rious, fantastic  pillar  or  leaning  tower.  Mr. 
Hardy  was  conscious  of  all  this  and  more  as  he 
heard  the  groans  of  the  injured,  and  the  cries 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          119 

of  those  begging  to  be  released  from  the  tim- 
bers under  which  they  had  been  caught. 
But  his  own  children!  Never  had  he  so  loved 
them  as  now.  The  crowd  of  people  had  in- 
creased to  a  mob.  The  confusion  was  that  of 
terror.  Mr.  Hardy  rushed  about  the  wreck 
searching  for  his  children,  a  great  throbbing  at 
his  heart  as  he  thought  of  their  probable  fate, 
when  the  sweetest  of  all  sounds,  Bessie's  de-ar 
voice,  came  to  him,  and  the  next  minute  he  had 
caught  up  the  child  as  she  ran  to  him,  and 
strained  her  to  his  breast  as  he  held  her  in  his 
arms  as  in  the  old  days  when  he  had  carried 
her  about  the  house  and  yard. 

"Where  are  Will  and  Clara?" 

"0  father !  they're  here,  and  Will  wasn't  hurt 
much  more  than  I  was.  But  Clara  has  fainted 
and  she  is  lying  down  over  here." 

Bess  dragged  her  father  out  across  the  ice  to 
the  edge  of  the  bank  where  a  number  of  the 
victims  had  been  laid  on  the  cushions  of  the 
seats,  some  dead,  some  dying,  and  there  lay 
Clara,  very  white  and  still,  with  Will  bending 
over  her,  himself  bleeding  from  several  wounds 


120          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

about  the  head  and  hands,  but  still  conscious 
and  trying  to  restore  his  sister. 

Mr.  Hardy  kneeled  down  in  the  snow  by  his 
son's  side,  and  Will,  seeing  him  there,  was  not 
surprised,  but  he  sobbed  excitedly,  "Oh,  she  is- 
dead!" 

"No,"  replied  his  father,  "she  is  not." 

Clara  stirred,  and  her  lips  moved,  but  she 
did  not  open  her  eyes,  and  then  her  father  no- 
ticed that  a  strange  mark  lay  over  her  face. 

How  Mr.  Hardy  succeeded  in  carrying  the 
girl  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  how  he  left  her 
there  in  the  care  of  brave-hearted  women  while 
he  went  down  into  that  hell's  pit  to  rescue  vic- 
tims imprisoned  and  groaning  for  help,  how 
Bess  related  the  accident  of  the  night  and  tried 
to  explain  how  she  was  not  hurt  except  a 
scratch  or  two,  because  she  fell  between  two 
car-seat  cushions  that  were  jammed  around  her 
and  protected  her  from  injury,  how  the  excite- 
ment grew  as  it  was  discovered  that  the  dead 
and  dying  would  number  more  than  seventy- 
five  instead  of  ten  or  twelve  as  Burns  tele- 
phoned, how  finally  Robert  Hardy  and  Will 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  121 

and  Bess  and  Clara,  with  other  victims,  were 
taken  back  to  Barton,  where  a  great  crowd  of 
anxious,  pale-faced  people  was  surging  through 
the  station  and  over  the  track,  how  James  Cax- 
ton  was  first  to  board  the  train  down  by  the 
shops  at  the  risk  of  his  neck  as  in  the  rainy 
•darkness  he  swung  himself  on  the  dead  run  up 
to  the  platform  of  the  coach,  how  Mrs.  Hardy 
met  her  children  and  husband,  how  there  was 
sorrow  in  many  a  home  in  Barton  that  night 
and  for  many  days  to  come,  how  Mr.  Hardy 
finally,  a  little  after  midnight,  entirely  ex- 
hausted by  the  events  of  the  day  and  night,  fell 
asleep  and  dreamed  the  scene  all  over  again — 
all  this  and  a  great  deal  more  might  be  of  in- 
terest concerning  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
railroad  accidents  that  ever  occurred  in  this 
country,  but  would  be  out  of  place  in  this  nar- 
rative. For  it  is  all  true,  exactly  and  literally, 
only  the  detailed  horrors  of  it  no  pen  can  de- 
scribe, no  words  can  tell. 

Mr.  Hardy  woke  about  eight  o'clock,  rested, 
but  feeling  very  lame  and  sore  from  his  exer- 
tions of  the  night.  His  first  thought  was  of 


122          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Clara.  When  he  went  to  sleep  the  girl  seemed1 
to  be  resting  without  pain,  only  that  strange 
mark  across  her  face  made  them  all  anxious. 
It  was  not  a  bruise,  but  it  lay  like  a  brand  across- 
the  eyes  which  had  not  opened  since  her  father 
found  her  lying  by  the  frozen  stream.  James 
had  insisted  on  staying  in  the  house  to  be  of 
service,  and  Mrs.  Hardy  had  felt  grateful  for 
his  presence  as  she  watched  for  returning  con- 
sciousness from  Clara,  who  still  gave  no  more- 
sign  of  animation  although  she  breathed  easily 
and  seemed  to  be  free  from  pain.  Every  doctor 
and  surgeon  in  town  had  been  summoned  to 
the  scene  of  the  accident.  But  Mr.  Hardy  felt 
so  anxious  for  Clara  as  he  came  in  and  looked 
at  her,  that  he  went  downstairs  and  asked 
James  if  he  wouldn't  run  out  and  see  if  any  of 
the  doctors  had  returned. 

"Yes,  sir,  I'll  go  at  once.  How  is  she  now, 
Mr.  Hardy?"  James  looked  him  in  the  face 
with  the  look  that  love  means  when  it  is  true 
and  brave. 

"My  boy,"  replied  Mr.  Hardy  laying  his  hand 
on  James's  shoulder,  "I  don't  know.  There  is 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  123 

something  strange  about  it.  Get  a  doctor  if  you 
can.  But  I  know  there  must  be  many  other  sad 
homes  to-day  in  Barton.  Oh,  it  was  horrible !" 

He  sat  down  and  covered  his  face  while  James 
with  a  brief  "God  help  us,  sir!"  went  out  in 
search  of  a  doctor. 

Mr.  Hardy  went  upstairs  again,  and  with  his 
wife  kneeled  down  and  offered  a  prayer  of 
thanksgiving  and  of  appeal.  "0  Lord,"  said 
Bobert,  "grant  that  this  dear  one  of  ours  may 
be  restored  to  us  again.  Spare  us  this  anguish, 
not  in  return  for  our  goodness  but  out  of  Thy 
great  compassion  for  our  sins  repented  of!" 

Will  and  Bess  lay  in  the  next  room,  and  now 
that  the  reaction  had  set  in  they  were  sleeping, 
Will  feverish  and  restless,  Bess  quite  peaceful, 
as  if  nothing  had  happened  out  of  the  usual 
order  of  things. 

"Where  is  George?"  asked  Mr.  Hardy  as  he 
rose  from  his  prayer. 

"I  don't  know,  Kobert.  He  started  down  to 
the  train  a  little  while  after  you  did.  Haven't 
you  seen  him?" 

"Xo,  Mary.    God  grant  he  may  not — "    Mr. 


124          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Hardy  did  not  dare  finish  his  thought  aloud. 
His  wife  guessed  his  thought,  and  together  the 
two  sat  hand  in  hand,  drawn  very  near  by  their 
mutual  trouble  and  by  all  the  strange  events 
of  that  strange  week.  And  together  they  talked 
of  the  accident,  and  of  Clara  and  James,  and 
their  oldest  son;  and  then  Mrs.  Hardy  said,  as 
she  tremblingly  drew  her  husband's  face  near 
to  her: 

"Kobert,  do  you  still  have  that  impression 
concerning  the  time  left  you  here  to  live  ?  Do 
you  still  think  this  week  is  to  be  the  end?" 

Mrs.  Hardy  had  a  vague  hope  that  the  shock 
of  the  accident  might  have  destroyed  the  im- 
pression of  the  dream,  but  her  hope  was  disap- 
pointed. 

"My  dear  wife,"  replied  Robert,  "there  IB 
not  the  least  doubt  in  my  mind  that  my  dream 
was  a  vision  of  what  will  happen.  There  is  no 
question  but  that  after  Sunday  I  shall  not  be 
with  you.  This  is  Wednesday.  How  light- 
ning-like the  days  have  flown!  How  precious 
the  moments  are!  How  many  of  them  I  have 
wasted  in  foolish  selfishness!  Mary,  I  should 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          125 

go  mad  with  the  thought  if  I  did  not  feel  the 
necessity  of  making  this  week  the  best  week  of 
all  my  life.  Only,  I  do  not  know  what  is  most 
important  to  do.  If  it  had  been  seven  months, 
or  even  seven  weeks,  I  might  have  planned  more 
wisely.  Oh,  it  is  cruelly  brief,  the  time!  But 
I  must  make  the  wisest  possible  use  of  it.  This 
accident,  so  unexpected,  has  complicated  the 
matter.  I  had  not  reckoned  on  it." 

How  many  of  us  do  reckon  on  accidents! 
They  always  come  into  our  lives  with  a  shock. 
Yet  it  seems  possible  that  a  man  who  lives  very 
close  to  God  every  day  might  be  so  ready  for 
everything  that  not  even  the  most  terrible  ca- 
tastrophe could  make  much  difference  to  his 
plans  for  daily  life,  least  of  all  deprive  him  of 
his  reason  as  it  has  so  often  done.  Robert 
Hardy  was  just  beginning  to  realize  dimly  that 
life  is  not  one  thing,  but  many  things,  and  that 
its  importance  is  the  importance  which  belongs 
to  the  character  of  God  himself. 

He  began  to  talk  calmly  with  his  wife  con- 
cerning what  he  would  do  that  day,  and  was 
still  talking  about  it  when  James  came  in  with. 


126  Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

a  doctor  who  at  once  went  upstairs.  He  was 
just  from  the  scene  of  the  accident,  and  bore 
marks  of  a  hard  night's  work.  His  first  glance 
at  Clara  was  hard  and  professional.  But  as  he 
looked  he  grew  very  grave,  and  an  expression  of 
serious  surprise  came  over  his  weary  face.  He 
laid  his  hands  on  the  girl's  eyes  and  examined 
them;  raised  her  hand  and  dropped  it  upon  the 
hed  again.  Then  turning  to  the  father  and 
mother  he  said  gently, 

"You  must  prepare  yourselves  for  a  terrible 
fact  resulting  from  the  shock  to  your  daughter. 
She  has  suffered  a  shock  that  will  probably 
render  her  blind  as  long  as  she  lives." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hardy  listened,  pale-faced  and 
troubled.  It  was  hard  to  think  of  the  girl,  so 
strong-willed,  so  passionate,  and  yet  so  capa- 
ble of  noble  impulses  and  loving  desires,  as  all 
her  life  shut  up  within  the  darkness  thus.  It 
was  bitter  to  think  of  this  for  her.  What 
would  it  be  to  her  when  she  awoke  to  the  whole 
consciousness  of  it?  The  doctor  spoke  again 
slowly: 

"There  is  another  thing  you  ought  to  be  pro- 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          127 

pared  for.  In  rare  cases  like  this,  it  happens 
sometimes  that  a  loss  of  hearing  accompanies 
the  loss  of  sight."  Then  after  a  pause,  "And 
with  the  loss  of  sight  and  hearing  it  is  possible 
the  peculiar  shock  has  deprived  your  daughter 
of  the  power  of  speech.  I  do  not  know  yet 
whether  this  has  happened,  but  I  prepare  you 
for  the  worst." 

"Blind,  and  deaf,  and  dumb!"  murmured 
Mr.  Hardy,  while  his  wife  sat  down  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  bed  clothes  and  sobbed.  It 
seemed  terrible  to  them.  The  doctor,  after  a 
little  further  examination,  said  nothing  more 
could  be  done  at  present,  gave  directions  for 
certain  necessary  treatment,  and  departed  after 
giving  a  look  at  Will  and  Bess  and  prescribing 
for  them.  Mr.  Hardy  went  downstairs  and 
quietly  told  James  all  that  the  doctor  had  said. 
To  a  man  living  on  the  verge  of  eternity,  as 
Mr.  Hardy  was,  there  was  no  time  for  evasions 
or  the  postponing  of  bad  news,  or  the  utterance 
of  soft  speeches.  James  took  the  news  more 
calmly  than  Mr.  Hardy  thought  he  would.  It 


128          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

was  evident  he  did  not  realize  all  that  was 
meant  by  it. 

"Can  you  love  Clara  under  these  conditions  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Hardy,  looking  at  James  with  a 
sympathy  that  the  young  man  could  not 
help  feeling. 

"Yes,  sir,  more  than  ever.  Why,  is  she  not 
more  in  need  of  it  than  ever  ?" 

"True.  But  what  can  you  do  with  a  helpless 
creature  like  that?" 

"'God  help  us,  sir!  If  she  was  my  wife  now 
and  was  dependent  on  me,  don't"  you  think  I 
could  care  for  her  tenderly  better  than  anyone 
else  in  the  world  ?" 

Mr.  Hardy  shook  his  head.  "This  is  a  hard 
blow  to  me,  James.  I  don't  know  just  what  to 
say  yet.  But  it  is  possible  the  poor  girl  may  not 
have  to  suffer  all  that.  Let  us  hope  the  doctor 
is  not  justified  in  his  supposition.  Indeed,  he 
said  he  could  not  tell  for  certain  that  loss  of 
hearing  and  speech  would  follow.  If  they  do, 
I  cannot  see  how  Clara  can  retain  her  reason 
when  she  recovers  from  the  shock.  James,  1 
believe  you  are  a  good  fellow.  I  have  not  for- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          129 

gotten  my  own  courtship.  I  will  not  stand  in 
the  way  between  you  and  your  love  for  Clara  in 
anything  right  and  reasonable.  I  had  hoped 
we  might  have  a  good  talk  together  over  the 
matter.  This  accident  has  made  it  impossible 
for  a  time,  at  least.  But  I  confide  in  you  as  an 
honest,  true  man.  We  must  wait  for  events  to 
take  shape.  Meanwhile  let  us  pray  God  to 
give  us  wisdom  and  lead  us  into  the  way 
we  need  to  go." 

James  Caxton  listened  to  Mr.  Hardy  with  a 
feeling  of  astonishment.  This  was  not  the 
Robert  Hardy  he  had  known  all  his  life.  This 
was  a  new  man.  For  a  moment  his  own  hopes 
and  fears  were  almost  lost  sight  of  in  the 
thought  of  the  great  change  in  the  elder  man. 
In  a  tumult  of  feeling  he  went  home,  after  beg- 
ging Mrs.  Hardy  to  send  him  word  if  Clara  be- 
came worse  or  if  there  was  any  service  he  could 
render  the  family,  and  Robert  went  back  up- 
stairs where  his  wife  sat  by  the  side  of  the  in- 
jured girl. 

"Mary,"  he  said,  "I  must  go  down  to  the 
shop.  You  know  I  left  word  with  Wellman  to 


130          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

do  what  he  could  in  the  office  until  I  could  get 
down.  But  this  accident  has  made  it  impera- 
tive that  I  be  there  myself.  There  are  details 
the  men  cannot  attend  to.  I  cannot  do  any 
more  here,  and  I  must  do  what  I  can  for  the 
sufferers.  God  has  been  merciful  to  us,  dear. 
Our  dear  ones  are  spared  to  us.  Oh,  when  I 
heard  Bessie's  voice  in  that  hell's  pit  it  seemed 
to  me  God  was  taking  pity  on  me  for  the  burden 
I  am  carrying  this  week.  And  if  she  had  been 
killed  I  do  believe  I  should  have  gone  mad. 
Pray  for  me,  sweetheart !"  And  with  a  kiss  and 
embrace  Robert  left  the  house,  and  even  in  the 
sorrow  of  all  her  trouble,  Mrs.  Hardy  felt  a 
great  wave  of  joy  flow  through  her  at  the 
thought  of  a  love  come  back  to  her,  and  as  she 
went  to  the  window  and  watched  the  tall, 
strong  figure  swing  down  the  street,  she  almost 
felt  a  girl  again,  and  wondered  if  he  would  turn 
around  and  see  her  there  and  toss  his  hat  to  her 
as  in  the  old  days.  Yes,  just  before  he  reached 
the  corner  when  he  had  to  turn  he  looked  back 
up  at  the  window,  saw  his  wife  standing  there, 
and  took  off  his  hat  with  a  smile,  and  she  waved 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  131 

her  hand  at  him  and  colored  as  when  her  Rob- 
ert used  to  do  the  same  thing  when  he  was 
courting  her!  "Two  fools!"  somebody  say?. 
Yes,  two  children  of  God,  who  have  seen  His 
face  and  learned  what  all  this  life  means. 

He  found  much  to  do  at  the  shops.  The  ac- 
cident necessitated  special  work.  It  looked  to 
him  as  if  he  must  be  down  there  all  day.  There 
was  almost  a  panic  in  the  planing-rooms.  The 
air  was  heavy  with  the  horror  of  the  night  be- 
fore. Owing  to  the  wreck,  there  was  more  need 
of  work  in  the  shops  than  ever.  But  along 
towards  noon  Burns  came  into  the  office  pull- 
ing a  long  face,  and  asking  Mr.  Hardy  to  step 
across  the  yard  and  talk  to  the  men  who  had 
threatened,  Burns  said,  to  do  mischief  if  they 
were  not  given  the  afternoon  to  go  down  to  the 
scene  of  the  disaster.  Mr.  Hardy,  with  a  sink- 
ing heart,  rose  and  followed  Burns  into  the 
planing-rooms.  He  told  the  foreman  to  get  the 
men  together  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  They 
stopped  their  machines  and  gathered  in  the 
largest  open  space  between  the  planers,  and  Mr. 
Hardy  addressed  them. 


132          Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"What  do  you  want?  Burns  tells  me  there 
.  is  dissatisfaction.  Speak  out  so  that  we  may 
know  what  the  trouble  is." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.  Then  one 
man  spoke  up. 

"We  think  the  company  ought  to  give  us  the 
clay  off." 

"What  for?"  asked  Mr.  Hardy  mildly.  Un- 
der any  other  circumstances  he  would  have  told 
the  men  they  might  leave  for  good  if  they  did 
not  like  the  pay  and  the  company.  He  had  done 
just  that  thing  twice  before.  But  things  were 
different  now.  He  looked  at  the  men  in  a  new 
light.  He  was  a  new  man  himself.  Besides,  it 
was  imperative  that  the  work  in  the  shops  go 
on.  The  company  could  ill  afford  to  lose  the 
work  just  at  this  particular  time.  All  these 
considerations  did  not  blind  Robert  to  his  obli- 
gations as  an  officer  of  the  company.  He  was 
only  anxious  that  no  injustice  should  be  done. 
So  he  said,  "What  for?"  mildly  and  quietly,  and 
waited  for  an  answer. 

The  spokesman  was  not  quite  ready  with  an 
answer.  The  directness  of  the  question,  and 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          133 

the  mildness  of  it  also,  surprised  him.  Another 
man  spoke  up. 

"Our  friends  were  in  the  accident.  We  want 
to  go  see  them." 

"Very  well.  How  many  men  had  relatives  or 
friends  in  the  accident  who  are  injured  or 
killed?  Let  them  step  forward." 

There  was  a  moment  of  inaction.  Then  three 
men  stepped  out.  Mr.  Hardy  said,  "You  may 
go  if  you  want  to.  Why  didn't  you  ask  for  leave 
off  if  you  wanted  it?  What  reason  have  you  to 
suppose  the  company  would  refuse  such  a  re- 
quest? Now,  what  is  the  trouble  with  the  rest  ? 
The  company  is  not  in  a  position  to  grant  a 
holiday  at  this  particular  time,  and  you  know 
it.  Come!  Be  fair,  men!  I  can't  shut  down 
the  shops  all  day  to  let  you  go  and  see  a  railroad 
wreck.  Be  reasonable !  What  do  you  want  ?" 

"We  want  more  pay  and  freedom  from  Sun- 
day work/'  said  a  big  fellow,  the  Norwegian 
who  ran  the  biggest  planer  in  the  shop.  He 
had  more  than  once  proved  troublesome  to 
Burns,  but  he  was  a  remarkablv  intelligent  and 


134          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

skillful  workman,  and  the  foreman  had  endured 
much  irritation  on  that  account. 

Mr.  Hardy  replied,  still  speaking  pleasantly, 
"The  matter  of  more  pay  is  one  we  cannot  well 
discuss  here  now,  but  I  will  say  to  you  and  all 
th  3  rest  that  as  far  as  it  is  in  my  power  there 
shall  be  no  more  Sunday  work  demanded — " 
"while  I  live" — Mr.  Hardy  was  on  the  point 
of  saying,  but  he  said  instead  "of  the  men 
in  the  shops." 

"'Still,  that  is  not  the  question,"  replied  the 
man  in  an  insolent  tone.  Mr.  Hardy  looked  at 
him  more  closely  and  saw  that  he  had  been 
drinking.  Several  of  the  workmen  cried  out, 

"Shut  up,  Herman !  Mr.  Hardy  be  right;  we 
be  fools  to  make  row  now  at  this  time." 

And  a  dozen  men  started  for  their  machines 
to  go  to  work  again,  while  Burns  went  up  and 
laid  his  hand  on  the  Norwegian's  arm  and  said 
to  him,  roughly, 

"Quit  off  now.  You've  been  dipping  that 
beard  of  yours  into  a  whisky  barrel.  Better 
mind  your  pegs  or  you  get  your  walking  pa- 
pers." 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          135 

"Mind  your  own,  Burns,"  replied  the  big  man 
heavily.  "You  be  somethings  of  a  beard  drink- 
er yourself  if  you  had  the  beard." 

Burns  was  so  enraged  at  the  drunken  retort 
that  he  drew  back  as  if  to  strike  the  man,  when 
the  Norwegian  smote  the  foreman  a  blow  that 
laid  him  sprawling  in  the  iron  dust.  Instantly 
Mr.  Hardy  stepped  up  between  the  two  men 
before  Burns  could  rise.  We  have  spoken  of 
Robert's  intense  horror  of  the  coarse  physical 
vices.  It  seemed  totally  wrong  to  him  that  a 
v.'orkman  should  degrade  himself  with  drink. 
Besides,  he  could  not  tolerate  such  actions  in 
the  shops.  He  looked  the  drunken  man  in  the 
face  and  said  sternly: 

"You  are  discharged !  I  cannot  afford  to  em- 
ploy drunken  men  in  these  shops.  You  may  go 
this  instant!" 

The  man  leered  at  Mr.  Hardy,  raised  his  arm 
as  if  to  strike,  while  the  manager  confronted 
him  with  a  stern  look,  but  before  he  could  do 
any  harm  two  or  three  of  the  men  seized  him 
and  hustled  him  back  to  the  other  end 
of  the  shops,  while  Burns  arose,  vowing 


136  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

vengeance.  The  men  went  back  to  their 
machines,  and  Mr.  Hardy,  with  an  anx- 
ious feeling  of  heart,  went  back  into  the  office, 
satisfied  that  there  would  be  no  trouble  at  the 
shops  for  the  rest  of  the  day  at  least.  He  felt 
sorry  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  discharge 
Herman,  but  he  felt  that  he  had  done  the  right 
thing.  The  company  could  not  afford  in  any 
way  to  employ  men  who  were  drunkards,  espec- 
ially not  just  at  this  time,  when  it  began  to  be 
more  than  plainly  hinted  that  the  result  of  the 
accident  on  the  road  was  due  to  the  partial  in- 
toxication of  a  track  inspector.  That  accident 
was  a  complication  in  Robert  Hardy's  Seven 
Days.  It  was  demanding  of  him  precious  time 
that  he  longed  to  spend  in  his  family. 

At  one  time  in  the  afternoon  as  he  worked  at 
tho  office,  Mr.  Hardy  was  tempted  to  resign  his 
position  and  go  home,  come  what  might.  But 
to  his  credit  be  it  said,  even  in  his  most  selfish 
moments  formerly,  he  had  been  faithful  to  his 
duties  at  the  office.  At  present  no  one  could  take 
his  place  at  once.  He  felt  that  his  duty  to  the 
company  and  to  the  public  demanded  his  ser- 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  137 

vices  at  the  time  of  a  crisis  in  railroad  matters. 
So  he  stayed  and  worked  on,  praying  as  he 
worked  for  his  dear  ones  and  hoping,  as  no  bad 
news  came  from  home,  that  Clara  was  better. 
He  had  been  to  the  telephone  several  times  and 
had  two  or  three  short  talks  with  his  wife,  and 
now  as  it  began  to  grow  dark  in  the  office,  just 
as  the  lights  were  turned  on  the  bell  rang  again, 
and  Mrs.  Hardy  called  him  up  to  tell  him  that 
the  minister,  Mr.  Jones,  had  called  and  wanted 
to  see  him  about  some  of  the  families  that  were 
injured  in  the  accident  at  the  foundry-room. 

"Tell  Mr.  Jones  I  will  try  to  see  him  at  the 
meeting  to-night."  (In  Barton  the  church 
meeting  fell  on  Wednesday.)  "And  tell  him  I 
will  have  something  to  give  him  for  what  he 
wants.  How  is  Clara  now?" 

"No  change  yet.  Will  is  suffering  some  from 
nervousness.  He  says  he  had  a  horrible  dream 
of  the  accident  this  afternoon.  Bess  is  about 
the  same.  Her  escape  was  a  miracle." 

"Has  George  come  home  yet?" 

"No,  I  am  getting  anxious  about  him.    I  wish 


138           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

you  would  inquire  about  him  at  the  Bramleye 
as  you  come  up  to  supper." 

"I  will.  I  must  leave  very  soon.  This  has 
been  a  terrible  day  down  here.  God  keeps  us. 
Good  bye.'' 


Robert  Hardy'a  Seven  Daya,          13U 
CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  THIRD  DAY — CONTINUED. 

Robert  finished  most  of  the  work,  toiling  as 
never  in  all  his  life  before,  and  started  for  home 
at  six.  On  the  way  he  made  inquiries  concern- 
ing George,  but  nobody  had  seen  him  since  the 
evening  before.  When  he  reached  the  house  he 
found  his  wife,  utterly  worn  out,  had  lain  down 
for  a  little  sleep  and  Alice  was  caring  for  the 
patients  with  a  calm  courage  and  quiet  cheer- 
fulness that  revealed  the  girl's  strong,  self- 
reliant  character.  Clara's  condition  had  not 
changed.  She  still  lay  as  if  sleeping.  Alice 
reported  that  once  in  the  afternoon  she  had 
moved  her  lips  and  distinctly  called  for  water. 
Mr.  Hardy  and  Bess  sat  down  to  the  supper 
table  by  themselves,  and  Bess  again  told  how 
she  had  been  saved  from  even  a  scratch  in  that 
terrible  fall.  It  was  indeed  remarkable  that  the 
child  did  not  seem  to  suffer  even  from  the  gen- 
eral shock  and  reaction  from  the  disaster. 


140  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

After  a  brief  meal  Mr.  Hardy  went  upstairs 
to  Clara  again.  His  chief  anxiety  now  was  for 
her.  He  believed  that  if  the  doctor's  fears  were 
realized,  she  would  become  insane.  It  was  not 
possible  that  a  person  of  her  temperament  and 
passion  could  be  otherwise  in  case  she  should 
come  to  consciousness  of  her  condition.  As  the 
evening  wore  on,  Mr.  Hardy  felt  that  his  duty 
lay  in  his  own  home  for  that  night,  and  he 
would  have  to  see  his  minister  some  other  time. 
He  thought  of  the  prayer  meeting  with  regret, 
and  sat  by  the  bed  of  the  unconscious  girl,  won- 
dering how  it  was  possible  that  for  all  these 
years  gone  by,  he  had  been  so  indifferent  to  one 
of  the  best  and  most  precious  opportunities  for 
growing  in  spiritual  manhood.  He  heard  the 
bell  ring  for  service,  and  when  it  stopped  he  sat 
with  his  face  in  his  hands  praying. 

The  prayer  meeting  in  Mr.  Jones's  church 
was  generally  a  very  quiet  affair.  A  good  many 
people  in  the  church,  especially  those  who  came 
to  the  meeting  only  occasionally,  thought  it  was 
stupid.  But  it  was  a  noticeable  fact  that  those 
who  attended  regularly  were  the  ones  who  did 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  141 

the  most  work  in  the  church,  and  the  ones  who 
grew  stronger  and  sweeter  in  the  Christian  life. 
There  was  usually  no  regular  subject  given  out. 
There  was  very  little  talking  done.  From  be- 
ginning to  close  it  was  nearly  all  prayer.  Mr. 
Jones  did  not  feel  afraid  of  the  long  pauses.  He 
believed  that  the  modern  American  life  was  so 
full  of  nervousness  and  hurry  that  it  did  not 
hurt  any  one  to  sit  still  and  think  a  minute  or 
t\vo.  That  was  the  reason  so  many  people 
called  Mr.  Jones's  prayer  meetings  dull,  because 
they  were  not  rushing  all  the  time  with  sensa- 
tional or  exciting  remarks  and  incidents.  Mr. 
Jones  didn't  believe  that  was  what  a  prayer 
meeting  was  for,  and  he  planned  for  it  according- 
ly. But  this  particular  evening  was  an  exception. 
The  great  railroad  accident  so  near  them  had 
stirred  the  entire  community  to  its  sympathetic 
depths.  Several  families  in  Mr.  Jones's  church 
had  been  sufferers.  As  if  by  tacit  consent  there 
was  an  unusually  large  gathering  at  the  church, 
and  the  subject  was  of  necessity  the  recent  dis- 
aster. It  was  a  spontaneous  meeting.  The 
minister  briefly  opened  with  the  expressed  de- 


142  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

sire  that  God  would  bless  the  suffering,  prepare 
the  dying,  and  comfort  the  living,  and  almost 
instantly  a  service  of  prayer  began  which  was 
like  a  flood  in  its  continuous  outpouring.  The 
people  seemed  urged  by  some  irresistible  feeling 
to  relieve  the  pent-up  strain  of  the  day  in 
prayer.  And  such  prayers  had  not  been  heard 
in  that  church  for  many  years. 

A  similar  scene  was  witnessed  near  the 
White  River  Junction  railroad  disaster  in  1837, 
in  a  church  near  the  accident.  The  entire 
morning  service  was  given  up  to  prayer,  which 
seemed  the  only  healthy  relief  to  people  suffer- 
ing from  an  overwhelming  horror. 

It  was  during  the  first  pause  that  occurred 
that  James  Caxton  opened  the  door  and  gave  a 
note  to  some  one  in  the  back  seat,  with  a  re- 
quest that  it  be  sent  up  to  Mr.  Jones.  He  then 
turned  as  if  to  go  out,  but  hesitated,  came  back, 
and  slipped  into  a  vacant  seat  and  waited.  Mr. 
Jones  received  the  note,  glanced  at  its  contents 
and  then  rose.  There  was  a  singular  emotion 
in  his  voice  as  he  spoke. 

"I  have  just  been  handed  a  note  from  one  oL* 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  143 

our  members,  Mr.  Robert  Hardy,  with  the  re- 
qiiest  that  1  read  it  aloud  to  the  church  to- 
night : 

"To  you,  my  dear  Pastor,  and  you,  my  Brothers 

and  Sisters  in  Christ: 

"I  suppose  it  is  known  to  most  of  you  that 
three  of  my  children  were  on  the  train  during 
the  recent  accident  and  two  of  them  escaped 
with  but  slight  injuries.  But  my  daughter 
Clara  was  seriously  injured  by  the  shock,  and  I 
am  at  this  moment  seated  by  her  side,  praying 
that  her  reason  may  be  spared  and  her  possible 
injuries  prove  to  be  within  the  region  of  cure. 
I  had  planned  to  be  with  you  to-night.  I  want- 
ed to  tell  the  church  of  the  change  that  I  have 
lately  experienced.  I  do  not  need  to  tell  you 
that  for  the  twenty-five  .years  that  I  have  been 
a  member  of  the  cluirch  I  have  been  only  a 
member  in  name.  I  have  seldom  appeared  in 
any  of  the  spiritual  or  devotional  services  of  the 
church.  I  have  often  sat  in  an  attitude  of  criti- 
cism to  the  best  preaching.  I  have  been  a  hard 
man  with  those  in  my  employ.  I  have  been  cold 
and  even  revengeful  towards  other  members  of 
this  church.  I  have  been  a  very  proud,  un- 
Christian,  selfish  man.  In  the  sight  of  God  I 
have  been  an  altogether  unworthy  member  of 
the  church  of  Christ.  I  do  not  take  any  pride 
in  making  this  confession,  but  I  feel  that  it  is 
due  to  you.  and  something  tells  me  I  shall  have 
more  peace  of  mind  if  I  speak  to  you  as  I  have 
lately  prayed  to  God. 


144          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"It  is  not  necessary,  neither  have  I  time  nor 
strength,  to  tell  you  how  I  have  been  brought 
to  see  my  selfishness  in  all  its  enormity.  It  is 
enough  if  I  say  to  you  that  I  most  sincerely 
believe  that  I  have  misunderstood  very  largely 
the  right  meaning  of  human  existence.  I  want 
to  pray  with  you  and  for  you.  You  will  let  me 
say  this  also,  bearing  with  me,  as  this  may  be 
my  last  opportunity  to  say  to  you  what  lies  in 
my  heart :  Serve  the  church  of  Christ,  all  you 
who  have  taken  upon  you  its  vows,  with  enthu- 
siasm and  loyalty.  Stand  by  the  superintendent 
of  the  Sunday-school,  attend  this  week-night 
service  when  you  can,  making  it  the  most  im- 
portant service  of  the  week,  and,  more  than  all, 
live  true,  simple,  loving,  Christian  lives  every 
day.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I  am  preaching 
like  this  to  you  who  have  probably  done  your 
duty  far  better  than  I  ever  did,  but  I  wish  to 
say  what  lies  deep  in  my  heart  to  say  to-night. 
If  there  are  any  young  men  in  the  meeting  to- 
night, I  want  to  say  to  them,  become  Christians 
at  the  core!  Not  in  name  simply,  as  I  have 
been.  And  above  all,  kneel  down  every  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night,  and  pray  to  God  to  keep 
you  from  a  selfish  life — such  a  life  as  I  have 
lived — forgetful  of  church  vows,  of  the  rights 
of  the  working  poor,  of  the  brother  and  sister 
in  Christ.  Yes,  I  would  be  willing  that  any 
youn?  man  might  say,  '0  Lord,  keep  me  from 
living  as  selfish,  and  useless,  and  proud  a  life  as 
Ttobert  Hardy  once  lived/  For  that  is  the  truth. 
l$o  one  but  God  knows  how  I  have  suffered  at 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  115 

the  thought  of  the  past ;  how  I  am  suffering  at 
the  present  moment.  I  pray  that  any  who  are 
afflicted  at  this  present  time  may  find  peace  in 
Him  who  bore  the  world's  sorrows  in  His  great 
heart  of  love.  If  it  were  not  for  my  faith  in 
my  Savior  at  this  time,  I  should  be  in  despair. 
As  it  is,  I  am  suffering,  but  it  is  not  the  suffer- 
ing which  follows  an  eclipse  of  hope.  I  believe 
in  the  eternal  life,  and  in  the  forgiveness  of 
sins,  yea,  even  such  sins  as  mine  have  been. 
Forgive  so  much  about  myself.  It  was  necessary 
under  the  circumstances.  I  ask  your  prayers 
for  me  as  your  petitions  go  up  for  the  afflicted 
and  repentant  everywhere.  I  am  your  brother 
in  Christ, 

"ROBERT  HARDY." 

The  impression  made  by  the  reading  of  this 
letter  was  profound.  The  stillness  that  fol- 
lowed was  death-like.  Then  one  of  the  oldest 
men  in  the  room  rose,  and  in  a  prayer  of  great 
power  prayed  for  the  absent  man  and  thanked 
God  for  His  guiding  strength.  The  prayer  was 
followed  by  others,  and  then  one  and  another 
of  the  members  who  had  not  been  on  really 
good  terms  with  Mr.  Hardy,  rose  and  confessed 
and  asked  forgiveness.  The  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple were  greatly  moved.  And  Mr.  Jones,  con- 
trary to  his  usual  habit,  asked,  as  the  meeting 


1 16  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

drew  to  a  close,  if  there  were  any  present  who 
wanted  to  begin  that  Christian  life  at  the  core, 
of  which  Mr.  Hardy  spoke. 

UI  see  a  number  here  not  professing  Chris- 
tians. Are  there  any  "who  would  like  to  say 
that  they  want  to  become  Christians,  and  will 
try  to  live  the  Christ-life  every  day  ?" 

In  the  pause  that  followed,  James  Caxton, 
who  had  been  sitting  in  the  back  seat,  felt  as  if 
some  power  within  and  without  him  was  forc- 
ing him  to  his  feet.  He  grasped  his  chair  as 
if  to  hold  himself  down.  But  the  Holy  Spirit 
whispered  to  him,  "Son,  this  will  be  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  life  to  thee." 

And  so  James  Caxton  arose  and  said  he 
wanted  to  be  a  Christian;  and  from  that  mo- 
ment, he  dated  his  strong,  consecrated  life,  a 
life  that  bids  fair  to  become  famous  in  the 
world  yet,  and  his  action  was  the  beginning  of 
a  new  life  in  that  church  and  community;  but 
wo  cannot  dwell  on  that  in  the  course  of  this 
story.  0  Eobert  Hardy!  The  good  God  is 
blessing  thee  in  this  thy  week  of  trial.  For  was 
it  not  thy  word  that  first  started  this  young, 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          147 

manly  Bonl  to  consider  what  he  owed  to  Jesus 
the  Christ? 

To  come  back  to  Robert.  He  had  written  the 
note,  beginning  it  just  a  little  after  the  bell 
ceased  ringing,  and  as  he  finished,  James  had 
come  over  to  see  if  he  could  be  of  any  service. 
The  church  was  near  by  and  Mr.  Hardy  asked 
him  to  take  the  note  over.  He  went  over  to 
the  church,  with  the  result  described.  He  did 
not  come  back  at  once  and  Mr.  Hardy  watched 
on  with  Alice.  Will  slept  irregularly,  being 
troubled  with  his  dreams  of  the  accident.  Mrs. 
Hardy  woke  and  begged  her  husband  to  lie 
down  and  get  a  little  rest.  He  did  so,  but  was 
roused  about  ten  o'clock  by  the  doctor  coming 
in.  He  had  just  finished  a  visit  near  by;  he  saw 
the  light  and  was  anxious,  as  the  case  was  an 
extraordinary  one,  to  come  in.  He  examined 
Clara's  face  very  keenly,  and  then  sat  down  by 
the  bed  for  an  instant.  After  giving  certain 
medicines  he  found  that  he  was  in  need  of  an- 
other article  which  was  at  his  house. 

"I  will  go  and  get  it,  doctor.  It's  not  far, 
and  1  think  a  little  fresh  air  will  do  me  good 


148          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

and  help  me  to  remain  awake  better,"  said 
Robert. 

He  went  downstairs,  and  the  doctor  followed 
him  as  he  went  out  into  the  hall  and  flung  on 
his  overcoat.  Mr.  Hardy  turned  before  he 
opened  the  door: 

"Doctor,  tell  me  the  truth  about  my  girl. 
What  is  her  condition  ?" 

"It  is  serious.  But  more  than  that  I  cannot 
say.  There  is  a  possibility  that  by  means  of  a 
slight  operation  the  disastrous  consequences  of 
the  shock  to  her  eyes  may  be  averted.  And  it 
is  possible  that  the  other  results  of  which  I 
hinted  may  be  altogether  different.  It  is  not 
in  medical  power  to  decide  with  certainty." 

So  Mr.  Hardy  went  out  into  the  night  with 
a  glimmer  of  hope  in  his  breast.  It  was  snow- 
ing again  and  a  strong  wind  was  blowing,  so 
that  he  buttoned  his  big  coat  close  up,  drew  his 
hat  down  over  his  brows,  and  leaning  forward, 
walked  as  rapidly  as  he  could  against  the  wind 
iu  the  direction  of  the  doctor's  house.  The 
streets  were  almost  deserted.  The  lights  at  the 
corners  flickered  and  showed  pale  through  the 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  149 

lamps.  As  he  turned  down  a  narrow  street,  in- 
tending to  make  a  short  cut  across  a  park  that 
lay  near  the  doctor's,  he  was  suddenly  seized  by 
three  or  four  young  men,  and  one  of  them  said 
in  a  tone  which  betrayed  a  drunken  debauch: 

"Hold  up  your  hands  and  deliver.  You've 
got  plenty  of  chink  and  we  haven't!  So,  no 
squalling  or  we'll  shoot  you  for  it." 

Mr.  Hardy  was  taken  completely  by  surprise. 
But  he  was  a  vigorous,  athletic  man,  and  his 
first  impulse  was  to  shake  himself  loose,  to 
knock  down  two  of  his  assailants  next  to  him 
and  make  a  run  for  it.  His  next  glance,  how- 
ever, showed  him  the  nature  of  the  group  of 
young  men.  They  were  not  professional  rob- 
bers, but  young  men  about  town  who  had  been 
drinking  late,  and  were  evidently  out  on  a  lark, 
and  were  holding  him  up  just  for  fun.  Mr. 
Hardy  guessed  exactly  right.  What  could  he 
do?  Two  of  the  young  men  were  known  to 
htm,  the  sons  of  the  Bramleys  who  were  well- 
to-do  people  in  Barton.  Mr.  Hardy's  next  im- 
pulse was  to  discover  himself  to  them  and  beg 
them  to  quit  such  dangerous  fooling  and  go 


150  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

home.  The  three  other  young  men  were  in 
shadow  and  he  could  not  tell  them.  All  this 
passed  through  his  thought  with  a  flash.  But 
before  he  had  time  to  do  anything,  a  police 
officer  sprang  out  of  a  doorway  near  by,  and 
the  group  of  young  men  dropping  their  hold  of 
Mr.  Hardy,  fled  in  difl'erent  directions.  The 
officer  made  pursuit,  and  after  a  short  run  cap- 
tured one  of  the  young  men  and  after  a  vigor- 
ous resistance,  dragged  him  back  to  where  Mr. 
Hardy  stood,  exclaiming: 

"Here's  one  of  the  rascals,  sir !  I  heard  'em 
when  they  held  you  up.  We've  been  looking  for 
this  gang  some  time  now.  Just  identify  this  one 
if  he  is  the  one  that  just  now  grabbed  ye,  sir." 

Under  the  light  of  the  lamp  the  policeman 
dragged  the  form  of  his  victim  and  roughly 
struck  up  his  hat.  At  that  instant  Mr.  Hardy 
looked  into  his  face,  and  cried  out, 

"George!    Is  it  you?" 

And  the  son  replied  as  he  started  back, 

"Father!" 

And  the  two  looked  at  each  other  in  silence, 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          151 

while  the  snow  fell  in  whirling  flakes  about 
them. 

And  this  was  the  end  of  Robert  Hard/a 
Third  Day. 


152          Hobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 
CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   FOURTH    DAY — THURSDAY. 

Mr.  Hardy  looked  at  his  son  sternly,  stand- 
ing a  little  distance  off  as  he  had  recoiled  after 
that  first  recognition  of  the  boy.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  describe  his  emotions.  He  had 
never  been  an  affectionate  father  to  his  boys. 
He  had  generally  given  them  money  when  they 
asked  for  it  and  had  not  questioned  them  about 
its  use.  He  was  not  familiar  with  his  oldest 
son's  habits,  and  only  within  the  last  few  days 
had  he  known  that  he  was  what  the  age  popu- 
larly designates  as  "fast."  He  had  never  made 
a  companion  of  his  son.  He  had  not  grown 
up  with  him,  so  that  now  as  he  faced  him  under 
the  strange  circumstances  that  had  brought 
them  together,  he  was  actually  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  to  do  or  say.  The  thought  that  his  son 
was  guilty  of  a  crime  which  might  put  him  be- 
hind prison  bars  did  not  yet  occur  to  his  mind. 
He  was  only  conscious  of  a  great  longing  to  get 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  153 

back  home  and  there  have  a  thorough  talk  with 
his  boy,  in  the  hope  of  winning  him  to  better 
things.  But  he  must  say  something  to  George. 
The  police  officer  stared  in  wonder  after  the 
first  startled  cry  of  "Father!"  on  the  part  of 
the  young  man,  but  he  did  not  loosen  his  hold 
on  him.  He  took  an  extra  twist  in  the  coat  col- 
lar of  his  captive,  and  looked  sharply  at  Mr. 
Hardy  as  much  to  say,  "He  may  be  your  son, 
but  he's  my  victim,  and  I  mean  to  keep  a  good 
clutch  on  him/' 

George  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Father,  you  know  I  wouldn't  do  such  a 
thing,  really.  We  were  only  out  for  a  little 
fun.  We  didn't  know  you,  of  course.  We  didn't 
mean  any  real  harm.  We  were  only  fooling." 

"It  was  dangerous  fooling,"  replied  his 
father.  He  still  stood  apart  from  the  boy  and 
spoke  quietly,  but  his  face  was  pale  and  his 
heart  was  wrung  with  torture  for  his  first  born. 
Ah!  How  careless  of  him  he  had  been!  How 
little  companionship  the  two  had  had!  How 
very  little  help  the  boy  had  received  from  the 
man!  And  now,  believing  that  only  four  more 


154           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

days  lay  before  him  to  use  to  the  glory  of  God, 
Robert  Hardy  felt  the  sting  of  that  bitterest  of 
all  bitter  feelings,  useless  regret,  the  regret 
that  does  not  carry  with  it  any  hope  of  redeem- 
ing a  selfish  past. 

After  his  father  had  spoken,  George  sullenly 
remained  silent.  Mr.  Hardy  bowed  his  head 
and  seemed  thinking.  The  officer  who  had 
been  waiting  for  another  move  on  the  part  of 
the  older  man  said, 

"Well,  we  must  be  moving  on.  It's  warmer 
in  the  lockup  than  out  here;  so  come  along, 
young  fellow,  and  do  your  talking  to-morrow 
morning  with  the  rest  of  the  drunks  and  dis- 
orderlies." 

"Stop!"  cried  Robert  Hardy.  "This  is  my 
son!  Do  you  understand?  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do?" 

"Well,  governor,  that's  a  pretty  question  at 
this  time  o'  day.  Do!  I'm  going  to  jug  him 
for  assault  with  intent  to  commit  highway  rob- 
bery. It's  an  affair  for  the  pen,  1  can  teil  you." 

"But  you  heard  him  say  it  was  all  a  joke." 

"A  pretty  joke  to  try  to  hold  a  man  up  on 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  155 

the  highway  and  demand  his  money!  Oh,  no! 
That's  carrying  a  joke  too  far.  I'm  bound  to 
obey  orders.  We've  been  after  this  gang  of 
young  chaps  for  a  month  now." 

"But,  officer,  you  don't  understand.  This  is 
my  son." 

"Well,  what  of  that?  Don't  we  jug  sons 
every  day  for  some  deviltry  or  another?  Do 
yov.  suppose  you  are  the  only  father  whose  son 
is  going  to  the  devil !" 

"0  God,  no!"  cried  Mr.  Hardy,  with  sudden 
passion.  "But  this  is  my  oldest  boy.  It  would 
kill  his  mother  to  have  him  arrested  and  put  in 
jail  for  trying  to  rob  his  own  father.  And  yet 
he  was  once  innocent — what  am  I  saying?  He 
might  be  now  if  I  had  done  my  duty." 

Mr.  Hardy  confronted  the  officer  with  a  cer- 
tain sorrowful  dignity  which  even  that  harden- 
ed defender  of  the  law  understood. 

"Officer,  let  the  boy  go.  I  will  answer  for  it 
if  any  blame  falls  on  you  for  it.  He  was  not 
at  fault  in  this  matter.  He  was  not  the  one 
who  assaulted  me.  He  did  not  touch  me.  You 
could  not  get  a  particle  of  testimony  against 


150           Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

him.  And  besides  that,  it  is  necessary  that  he 
return  with  me.  This  is  a  case  for  the  law  of 
God.  This  belongs  to  a  higher  court." 

The  officer  hesitated.  Mr.  Hardy  stepped 
nearer  his  son. 

"George,"  he  said  as  if  forgetting  for  a  mo- 
ment that  the  officer  was  present,  "did  you 
know  that  Clara  and  Bess  and  Will  were  in  the 
accident  last  night?" 

George  turned  pale  and  tremblingly  replied, 
"No,  father.  Were  they  hurt?  Was  Bess—" 
The  boy  seemed  moved  as  his  father  had  not 
yet  seen  him. 

"No,  they  were  not,  that  is  Bess  was  not  hurt 
at  all.  But  Will  was  severely  bruised,  and  Clara 
still  lies  in  a  state  of  stupor  or  unconsciousness 
and  we  do  not  know  what  the  end  will  be.  I 
was  on  my  way  just  now  to  get  some  needed 
articles  from  the  doctor's  house.  You  must  come 
back  with  me.  The  law  has  no  hold  on  you." 

"Maybe  the  law  hasn't  any  hold  on  him,  but 
Michael  Finnerty  has.  I  don't  just  like  the  idea, 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  157 

Mister  Man,  of  letting  the  boy  go  yet,"  replied 
the  stubborn  and  unusually  dutiful  officer. 

Mr.  Hardy  began  to  appeal  to  the  man's  love 
of  his  own  children.  It  did  not  seem  to  move 
him  in  the  least,  until  he  mentioned  the  fact 
that  it  was  cruelty  to  keep  the  suffering  girl  at 
home  waiting  for  her  father's  return.  Mr.  Fin- 
nerty  finally  loosened  his  hold  on  George  and 
paid  slowly  and  painfully,  "An'  if  I  lose  me 
job  I'll  be  knowin'  who  was  to  blame  for  it.  I 
always  told  Michael  Finnerty  that  he  was  too 
soft-hearted  to  go  on  the  force !" 

"You  won't  suffer,  officer.  Many  thanks. 
Come,  George." 

And  father  and  son  moved  off  together,  while 
the  defender  of  the  law  stood  irresolute,  watch- 
ing them  disappear  through  the  storm,  and 
muttering  to  himself,  "I'm  a  soft-hearted  fool. 
I  ought  to  a-been  born  a  female  hospital  nurse, 
I  had." 

During  that  walk  home,  after  Mr.  Hardy  had 
gone  around  by  the  doctor's  with  George,  not 
a  word  was  exchanged.  The  storm  was  increas- 
ing. The  two  walked  along  in  silence.  But 


158           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

when  George  walked  into  the  hall  at  home  he 
turned  and  saw  a  look  on  his  father's  face  that 
smote  him  to  the  heart,  for  he  was  not  yet  a 
hardened  soul.  Mr.  Hardy  had  lived  years  in 
that  experience.  Xo  one  could  tell  how  his 
heart  had  been  tortured  by  what  he  had  en- 
dured that  night.  But  the  mark  of  it  was 
stamped  physically  on  his  face,  and  he  knew 
he  would  bear  it  to  his  grave. 

Mrs.  Hardy  came  running  downstairs  as  the 
two  came  in,  and  as  George  turned  and  faced 
her  she  held  out  her  arms  crying,  "My  boy! 
My  boy!  We  have  been  so  anxious  about  you!'' 

What!  not  one  word  of  reproach,  of  rebuke, 
of  question  as  to  what  he  had  been  doing  all 
this  time  that  the  family  had  been  suffering! 
Xo,  not  one  word.  Ah,  mother  love!  It  is  the 
most  wonderful  thing  on  earth,  next  to  the  love 
of  God  for  the  sinner.  And  it  is  even  that,  for  it 
is  the  love  of  God  expressing  itself  through  the 
mother  who  is  the  temple  of  the  loving  God. 

George  dashed  away  a  tear,  and  then  going 
up  to  his  mother  laid  his  cheek  against  hers, 
and  she  folded  her  arms  about  him  and  cried 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  lo!) 

a  little  and  asked  no  questions.  And  after  a 
moment's  silence  he  stammered  out  a  feu-- 
words of  sorrow  at  having  caused  her  pain,  and 
she  joyfully  accepted  his  broken  explanation  of 
how  he  had  not  known  of  the  accident  to  Clara 
and  the  others.  It  was  true  he  had  gone  out 
the  evening  before,  fully  intending  to  go  down 
to  the  scene  of  the  accident,  but  coming  across 
some  of  his  old  companions  he  had  gone  off 
with  them,  and  spent  the  night  in  a  disgrace- 
ful carouse,  and  throughout  the  day  had  beon 
under  the  influence  of  liquor,  more  or  less  dimly 
conscious  that  a  great  disaster  had  happened 
down  the  road,  but  not  enough  sober  to  realize 
its  details  or  its  possible  connection  with  those 
of  his  own  home.  The  sudden  meeting  with 
his  father  had  startled  him  out  of  the  drowsy 
intoxication  he  had  fallen  into  as  the  day  pro- 
gressed. And  now  as  he  felt  his  mother's  arms 
around  him  and  realized  a  little  what  the  family 
had  been  called  upon  to  endure,  he  felt  the 
shame  and  disgrace  of  his  own  conduct. 

Mr.  Hardy  went  upstairs  and  consulted  with 
the  doctor,  who  wondered  at  his  protracted 


160           liobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

absence.  There  was  no  change  in  Clara  yet. 
She  lay  in  a  condition  which  could  not  be 
called  a  trance  nor  a  sleep.  She  did  not  seem 
to  be  in  any  great  pain.  But  she  was  uncon- 
scious of  all  outside  conditions.  After  a  little 
talk  with  his  mother,  George  came  up  and  in- 
quired after  Bess  and  Will.  They  were  both 
sleeping,  and  after  the  doctor  had  gone  out  the 
father  and  mother  and  son  sat  down  together 
in  the  room  where  Clara  lay.  Mr.  Hardy  did 
not  say  a  word  to  George  about  the  incident  of 
the  evening.  The  shame  of  it  was  too  great 
yet.  When  men  of  Mr.  Hardy's  self-contained, 
repressed,  proud  nature  are  pained,  it  is  an  in- 
tense inward  fire  of  passion  that  cannot  bear 
to  break  out  into  words.  George  had  sense 
enough  to  offer  to  relieve  his  parents  of  the 
burden  of  watching  during  the  night,  and  dur- 
ing the  exchange  of  watches  along  towards 
morning,  as  Mrs.  Hardy  slipped  into  the  room 
to  relieve  the  boy,  she  found  him  kneeling  down 
at  a  couch  with  his  face  buried  in  the  cushions. 
She  raised  her  face  in  thanksgiving  to  God  and 
went  softly  out. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  161 

The  morning  dawned  gray  with  snow  which 
Mill  whirled  in  wreaths  about  the  sorrowing 
homes  of  Barton,  but  Robert  Hardy  thought  of 
the  merciful  covering  it  would  make  for  the 
ghastly  piles  of  ruin  down  under  the  bridge  and 
along  the  banks  of  the  river.  He  said  to  him- 
self, "This  is  my  fourth  day;  how  can  I  best 
spend  it?  What  shall  I  do?"  He  kneeled  and 
prayed,  and  rose  somewhat  refreshed.  The  fore- 
noon went  rapidly  by,  and  before  he  knew  it 
noon  was  near.  The  time  had  passed  in  watch- 
ing Clara,  visiting  with  Bess  and  Will  and  doing 
some  necessary  work  for  the  company  in  his 
little  office  downstairs.  He  did  not  feel  like 
saying  anything  to  George  yet.  James  Caxton 
had  been  in,  and  the  first  thing  he  had  men- 
tioned had  been  his  own  act  in  the  meeting  the 
night  before.  Mr.  Hardy  thanked  God  for  it, 
and  the  prayer  went  out  of  his  heart  for  his 
own  son  that  the  Spirit  might  touch  him  in  his 
sin  and  bring  him  into  the  light  of  Christ.  A 
little  after  noon  the  storm  cleared  up  and  Rob- 
ert prepared  to  go  down  to  the  shops.  Clara 
had  not  yet  come  out  of  her  stupor.  The  doctor 


162  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

> 

had  called  and  done  what  he  could.  There  was 
nothing  in  particular  that  Mr.  Hardy  could  do 
in  the  case,  so  he  went  out  about  one  o'clock 
and  entered  his  office  at  the  shops,  hoping  as 
he  went  in  that  he  would  have  no  trouble  with 
the  men. 

Mr.  Burns  reported  everything  quiet,  and  the 
manager  with  a  sigh  of  relief  proceeded  with 
the  routine  duties  of  the  business.  Nothing  of 
any  special  interest  occurred  through  the  after- 
noon. The  storm  had  ceased  entirely  and  the 
sun  had  come  out  clear  and  warm.  People  were 
clearing  off  the  walks,  and  the  ringing  of  sleigh- 
bells  was  distinct  in  the  office,  even  over  the 
incessant  hum  of  the  big  engine.  Towards 
three  o'clock,  one  of  Mr.  Hardy's  old  friends, 
an  officer  of  the  road,  came  in  and  said  there 
was  a  general  movement  on  foot  through  Bar- 
ton to  hold  a  monster  mass-meeting  in  the 
Town  Hall  for  the  benefit  of  the  sufferers,  both 
in  the  railroad  accident  and  in  the  explosion 
of  the  Sunday  before  in  the  shops.  It  was  true 
the  company  would  settle  for  damages,  but  in 
many  cases  through  Barton  the  adjustment  of 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  163 

claims  would  not  be  made  until  much  suffering 
and  hardship  had  been  endured.  There  was  a 
common  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  towns-people 
that  a  meeting  for  piiblic  conference  would  re- 
sult in  much  good,  and  there  was  also,  as  has 
been  the  case  in  other  large  horrors,  a  craving 
to  relieve  the  strain  of  feeling  by  public  gath- 
ering and  consultation. 

"Can  you  come  out  to  the  meeting,  Hardy  ?" 
asked  his  friend. 

Mr.  Hardy  thought  a  minute  and  replied, 
"Yes,  I  think  I  can."  Already  an  idea  had 
taken  shape  in  his  mind  which  he  could  not 
help  feeling  was  inspired  by  God. 

"Might  be  a  good  thing  if  you  could  come 
prepared  to  make  some  remarks.  I  find  there 
is  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  public  to 
charge  the  road  with  carelessness  and  misman- 
agement." 

"I'll  say  a  word  or  two,"  replied  Mr.  Hardy, 
and  after  a  brief  talk  on  business  matters  his 
friend  went  out. 

Robert  immediately  sat  down  to  his  desk  and 
for  an  hour,  interrupted  only  by  an  occasional 


10-1          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

item  of  business  brought  to  him  by  his  secre- 
tary, he  jotted  down  copious  notes.  The 
thought  which  had  come  to  him  when  his  friend 
suggested  the  meeting  was  this:  He  would  go 
and  utter  a  message  that  burned  within  him, 
a  message  which  the  events  of  the  past  few 
days  made  imperative  should  be  uttered.  He 
went  home  absorbed  in  the  great  idr~i.  He  had 
once  in  his  younger  days  been  famous  for  his 
skill  in  debate.  He  had  no  fear  of  his  power 
to  deliver  a  message  of  life  at  the  present  crisis 
in  his  own.  He  at  once  spoke  of  the  "aeeting  to 
his  wife. 

"Mary,  what  do  you  say  ?  I  know  every  min- 
ute is  precious.  I  owe  to  you  and  these  dear 
ones  at  home  a  very  sacred  duty.  But  no  less 
it  seems  to  me  is  my  duty  to  the  society  where 
I  have  lived  all  these  years,  doing  literally  noth- 
ing for  its  uplift  towards  God  who  gave  us  all 
life  and  power.  I  feel  as  if  He  would  put  a 
message  into  my  mouth  that  would  prove  a 
blessing  to  this  community.  It  seems  to  me 
this  special  opportunity  is  providential." 

"Robert,"  replied  his  wife  smiling  at  him 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  165 

through  happy  tears,  "it  is  the  will  of  God.  Do 
your  duty  as  he  makes  it  clear  to  you." 

It  had  been  an  agitating  week  to  the  wife. 
She  anticipated  its  close  with  a  feeling  akin  to 
terror.  What  would  the  end  be  ?  She  was  com- 
pelled to  say  to  herself  that  her  husband  was 
not  insane.  But  the  thought  that  he  was  really 
to  be  called  out  of  the  world  in  some  mysterious 
manner  at  the  end  of  the  rapidly  approaching 
Sunday,  had  several  times  come  over  her  with 
a  power  that  threatened  her  own  reason. 
Nevertheless  the  week  so  far,  in  spite  of  its  ter- 
ror and  agitation,  had  a  sweet  joy  for  her.  Her 
husband  had  come  back  to  her,  the  lover  as  he 
once  had  been,  only  with  the  added  tenderness 
of  all  the  years  of  their  companionship.  She 
thanked  the  Father  for  it,  and  when  the  hour 
came  for  Robert  to  go  down  to  the  meeting,  she 
blessed  him  and  prayed  heaven  to  make  his 
words  to  the  people  like  the  words  of  God. 

"Father,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?  Shall 
I  stay  here  ?"  asked  George  who  had  not  stirred 
out  of  the  house  all  day.  He  had  watched  by 
Clara  faithfully.  She  was  still  in  that  myster- 


16G          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

ions  condition  of  unconsciousness  which  made 
her  case  so  puzzling  to  the  doctor. 

Mr.  Hardy  hesitated  a  moment,  then  said, 
"No,  George,  I  would  like  to  have  you  go  with 
me.  Alice  can  do  all  that  is  necessary.  But  let 
us  all  pray  together  now  before  we  go  out.  The 
Lord  is  leading  us  mysteriously,  but  we  shall 
sometime  know  the  reason  why." 

So  in  the  room  where  Clara  lay,  they  all 
kneeled  down  except  Will  who  lay  upon  a 
lounge  near  his  unconscious  sister,  and  Mr. 
Hardy,  as  he  clasped  his  wife's  hand  in  his  own, 
poured  out  his  soul  in  this  petition : 

"Dear  Lord,  we  know  Thou  dost  love  us  even, 
though  we  cannot  always  know  why  Thou  dost 
allow  suffering  and  trouble.  And  we  would 
thank  Thee  for  the  things  that  cannot  be  de- 
stroyed, for  the  love  that  cannot  suffer  death, 
for  the  wonderful  promises  of  the  life  to  come. 
Only  we  have  been  so  careless  of  the  things  that 
belong  to  Thy  kingdom !  We  have  been  so  self- 
ish and  forgetful  of  the  great  needs,  and  suf- 
ferings, and  sins,  of  earth.  Pardon  us,  gracious 
Redeemer!  Pardon  me,  for  I  am  the  chief  of- 


liobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  167 

fender!  Yea,  Lord,  even  as  the  robber  on  the 
cross  was  welcomed  into  Paradise,  welcome 
Thou  me.  But  we  pray  for  our  dear  ones.  May 
they  recover.  Make  this  beloved  one  who  now 
lies  unknowing  of  us,  to  come  back  into  the 
universe  of  sense  and  sound,  to  know  us  and 
smile  upon  us  again.  We  say,  'Thy  will  be 
done.'  Grant  wisdom,  for  Thou  knowest  best, 
only  our  hearts  will  cry  out  for  help  and  Thou 
knowest  our  hearts  better  than  anyone  else. 
And  bless  me  this  night  as  I  stand  before  the 
people.  This  is  no  selfish  prayer,  dear  Lord. 
I  desire  only  Thy  glory.  I  pray  only  for  Thy 
kingdom.  But  Thou  hast  appointed  my  days 
to  live.  Thou  hast  sent  me  the  message  and  I 
cannot  help  feeling  the  solemn  burden  and  joy 
of  it.  I  will  say  to  the  people  that  Thou  art 
still  most  important  of  all  in  this  habitation  of 
the  flesh.  And  now  bless  us  all.  Give  us  new 
hearts.  Make  us  to  feel  the  true  meaning  of 
existence  here.  Reveal  to  us  Thy  splendor. 
Forgive  all  the  past  and  make  impossible  in  the 
children  the  mistakes  of  the  parent.  Deliver 


]68           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

us  from  evil,  and  Thine  shall  be  the  kingdom 
forever.  Amen." 

When  Mr.  Hardy  and  George  reached  the 
Town  Hall  they  found  a  large  crowd  gathering. 
They  had  some  difficulty  in  gaining  entrance, 
and  Mr.  Hardy  at  once  passed  up  to  the  plat- 
form where  the  chairman  of  the  meeting  greet- 
ed him  and  said  he  would  expect  him  to  make 
some  remarks  during  the  evening.  Robert  sat 
down  at  one  end  of  the  platform  and  watched 
the  hall  fill  with  people,  nearly  all  well  known 
to  him.  There  was  an  unusually  large  crowd 
of  boys  and  young  men,  besides  a  large  gather- 
ing of  his  own  men  from  the  shops,  together 
with  a  great  number  of  citizens  and  business- 
men,— a  representative  audience  for  the  place, 
brought  together  under  the  influence  of  the 
disaster  and  feeling  somewhat  the  breaking 
down  of  artificial  social  distinctions  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  grim  leveler,  Death,  who. had  come 
so  near  to  them  the  last  few  days. 

There  were  the  usual  opening  exercises  com- 
mon to  such  public  gatherings.  Several  well- 
known  business  men  and  two  or  three  of  the 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  ICO 

ministers,  including  Mr.  Jones,  made  appro- 
priate addresses.  The  attention  of  the  great 
audience  was  not  labored  for.  The  occasion  it- 
self was  enough  to  throw  over  the  people  the 
spell  of  subdued  quiet.  When  the  chairman 
announced  that  "Mr.  Robert  Hardy,  our  well 
known  railroad  manager,  will  now  address  us," 
there  was  a  movement  of  curiosity  and  some 
surprise,  and  many  a  man  leaned  forward  and 
wondered  in  his  heart  what  the  wealthy  rail- 
road man  would  have  to  say  on  such  an  occa- 
sion. He  had  never  appeared  as  a  speaker  in 
public,  and  he  passed  generally  in  Barton  for 
the  cold,  selfish,  haughty  man  he  had  always 
been. 


170          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  FIFTH  DAY FRIDAY. 

Mr.  Hardy  began  in  a  low,  clear  tone : 
''Men  and  women  of  Barton,  to-night  I  am 
not  the  man  you  have  known  me  these  twenty- 
five  years  I  have  been  among  you.  I  am,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  a  new  creature.  As  I  stand 
here  I  have  no  greater  desire  in  my  heart  than 
to  say  what  may  prove  to  be  a  blessing  to  all 
my  old  townspeople  and  to  my  employes  and  to 
these  strong  young  men  and  boys.  Within  a 
few  short  days  God  has  shown  me  the  selfish- 
ness of  a  human  being's  heart,  and  that  heart 
was  my  own.  And  it  is  with  feelings  none  of 
you  can  ever  know  that  I  look  into  your  faces 
and  say  these  words." 

Robert  paused  a  moment  as  if  gathering  him- 
self up  for  the  effort  that  followed,  and  the 
audience,  startled  with  an  unexpected  emotion 
by  the  strange  beginning,  thrilled  with  excite- 
ment, as,  lifting  his  arm  and  raising  his  voice, 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  17  L 

the  once  cold  and  proud  man  exclaimed,  as  his 
face  and  form  glowed  with  the  transfiguration 
of  a  new  manhood, 

"There  is  but  one  supreme  law  in  this  world, 
and  it  is  this:  Love  God  and  your  neighbor 
with  heart,  mind,  soul,  strength.  And  there 
arc  but  two  things  worth  living  for:  the  glory 
o£  God,  and  the  salvation  of  man.  To-night,  I 
who  look  into  eternity  in  a  sense  which  I  will 
not  stop  to  explain,  feel  the  bitterness  which, 
conies  from  the  knowledge  that  I  have  broken 
that  law  and  have  not  lived  for  those  things 
which  alone  are  worth  living  for.  But  God 
sent  me  here  to-night  with  a  message  to  the 
people  which  my  heart  must  deliver.  It  is  a 
duty  even  more  sacred  in  some  ways  than  what 
I  owe  to  my  own  kindred.  I  am  aware  that  the 
hearts  of  the  people  are  shocked  into  numbness 
by  the  recent  horror.  I  know  that  more  than 
one  bleeding  heart  is  in  this  house  and  the 
shadow  of  the  last  enemy  has  fallen  over  many 
thresholds  in  our  town.  What !  did  I  not  enter 
into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  myself 
as  I  stumbled  over  the  ghastly  ruins  of  that 


172          Robert  Hardy.'s  Seven  Days. 

wreck,  my  soul  torn  in  twain  for  the  love  of 
three  of  my  own  dear  children  ?  Do  I  not  sym- 
pathize in  full  with  all  those  who  bitterly  weep 
and  lament  and  sit  in  blackness  of  horror  this 
night  ?  Yea,  but  men  of  Barton,  why  is  it  that 
we  are  so  moved,  so  stirred,  so  shocked  by  the 
event  of  death,  when  the  far  more  awful  event 
of  life  does  not  disturb  us  in  the  least?  We 
shudder  with  terror,  we  lose  our  accustomed 
pride  or  indifference,  we  speak  in  whispers  and 
we  tread  softly  in  the  presence  of  the  visitor 
who  smites  but  once  and  then  smites  the  body 
only;  but  in  the  awful  presence  of  that  living 
image  of  God  we  go  our  ways  careless,  indiffer- 
ent, cold,  passionless,  selfish. 

"I  know  whereof  I  speak,  for  I  have  walked 
through  the  world  like  that  myself.  And  yet 
death  cannot  be  compared  for  one  moment  with 
life  for  majesty,  for  solemnity,  for  meaning,  for 
power.  There  were  seventy-five  persons  killed 
in  the  accident.  But  in  the  papers  this  morn- 
ing I  read  in  the  column  next  to  that  in  which 
the  accident  was  paraded,  in  small  type,  and  in 
the  briefest  of  paragraphs  the  statement  that 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  173 

a  certain  young  man  in  this  very  town  of  ours 
had  been  arrested  for  forging  his  father's  name 
on  a  check,  and  was  a  fugitive  from  the  law, 
and  every  day  in  this  town,  and  in  every  town 
all  over  the  world  events  like  that  and  worse 
than  that  are  of  frequent  occurrence.    Nay,  in 
this  very  town  of  ours,  more  than  seventy-five 
souls  are  at  this  very  moment  going  down  into 
a  far  blacker  hell  of  destruction  than  the  one 
down  there  under  that  fated  bridge,  and  the 
community  is  not  horrified  over  it.    How  many 
mass  meetings  have  been  held  in  this  town  with- 
in the  last  twenty-five  years  over  the  losses  of 
character,  the  death  of  purity,  the  destruction 
of  honesty?    And  yet  they  have  outnumbered 
the  victims  of  this  late  physical  disaster  a  thou- 
sand fold^   And  what  does  mere  death  do  ?    It 
releases  the  spirit  from  its  house  of  earth.    But 
aside  from  that,  death  does  nothing  to  the  per- 
son.   But  what  does  life  do?    Life  does  every- 
thing.   It  prepares  for  heaven  or  for  hell.    It 
starts  impulses,  moulds  character,  fixes  char- 
acter.    Death  has  no  kingdom  without  end. 
Death  is  only  the  last  enemy  of  the  many  ene- 


174           Koberl  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

mies  that  life  knows.  Death  is  a  second.  Life 
is  an  eternity.  0  men,  brothers,  if,  as  I  sol- 
emnly and  truly  believe,  this  is  the  last  oppor- 
tunity I  shall  have  to  speak  to  you  in  such  large 
numbers,  I  desire  you  to  remember  when  I  have 
vanished  from  your  sight  that  I  spent  nearly 
my  last  breath  in  an  appeal  to  you  to  make  the 
most  of  daily  life,  to  glorify  God  and  save  men. 
"The  greatest  enemy  of  man  is  not  death,  it 
is  selfishness.  He  sits  on  the  throne  of  the  en- 
tire world.  This  very  disaster  which  has  filled 
the  town  with  sorrow  was  due  to  selfishness. 
Let  us  see  if  that  is  not  so.  It  has  been  proved 
by  investigation  already  made,  that  the  drunk- 
enness of  a  track  inspector  was  the  cause  of  the 
accident.  What  was  the  cause  of  that  drunk- 
enness? The  drinking  habits  of  that  inspector! 
And  how  did  he  acquire  them?  In  a  saloon 
which  we  tax-payers  allow  to  run  on  payment 
of  a  certain  sum  of  money  into  our  town  treas- 
ury. So,  then,  it  was  the  greed  or  selfishness 
of  the  men  of  this  town  which  lies  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  dreadful  disaster.  Who  was  to 
blame  for  the  disaster?  The  track  inspector? 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  175 

Xo !  The  saloonkeeper  who  sold  him  the  liquor? 
No!  Who  then?  We  ourselves,  my  brothers; 
we  who  licensed  the  selling  of  the  stuff  which 
turned  a  man's  brain  into  liquid  fire  and  smote 
his  judgment  and  reason  with  a  brand  from  out 
the  burning  pit.  If  I  had  stumbled  upon  the 
three  corpses  of  my  own  children  night  before 
last,  I  could  have  exclaimed  in  justice  before 
the  face  of  God,  'I  have  murdered  my  own  chil- 
dren, for  I  was  one  of  the  men  of  Barton  to  vote 
for  the  license  which  made  possible  the  drunk- 
enness of  the  man  into  whose  care  were  placed 
hundreds  of  lives.' 

"For  what  is  the  history  of  this  case?  Who 
was  this  wretched  track  inspector?  A  man 
who,  to  my  own  knowledge,  trembled  before 
temptation,  who  on  the  testimony  of  the  fore- 
man at  the  shops  was,  and  always  had  been,  a 
sober  man  up  to  the  time  when  we  as  a  munic- 
ipality voted  to  replace  the  system  of  no  license 
with  the  saloon,  for  the  sake  of  what  we 
thought  was  a  necessary  revenue.  This  man 
had  no  great  tempation  to  drink  while  the 
baloon  was  out  of  the  way.  Its  very  absence 


170           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

was  his  salvation.  But  its  public  open  return 
confronted  his  appetite  once  more,  and  he  yield- 
ed and  fell.  Who  says  he  was  to  blame?  Who 
are  the  real  criminals  in  the  case?  We  our- 
selves, citizens,  we  who  for  the  greed  of  gain, 
for  the  saving  of  that  which  has  destroyed  more 
souls  in  hell  than  any  other  one  thing,  made 
possible  the  causes  which  led  to  the  grief  and 
trouble  of  this  hour.  Would  we  not  shrink  in 
terror  from  the  thought  of  lying  in  wait  to 
kill  a  man?  Would  we  not  repel  with  holy 
horror  the  idea  of  murdering  and  maiming 
seventy-five  people?  We  would  say  'impossi- 
ble !'  And  yet,  when  I  am  ushered  at  last  into 
the  majestic  presence  of  Almighty  God,  I  feel 
convinced  I  shall  see  in  His  righteous  counten- 
ance the  sentence  of  our  condemnation  just  as 
certain  as  if  we  had  gone  out  in  a  body  and  by 
wicked  craft  had  torn  up  the  supporting  tim- 
bers of  that  bridge  just  before  the  train  thun- 
dered upon  it.  For  did  we  not  sanction  by  law 
a  business  which  we  know  tempts  men  to  break 
all  the  laws,  which  fills  our  jails  and  poor- 
houses,  our  reformatories  and  asylums,  which 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  177 

breaks  women's  hearts,  and  beggars  blessed 
homes,  and  sends  innocent  children  to  tread 
the  paths  of  shame  and  vagrancy,  which  brings 
pallor  into  the  face  of  the  wife  and  tosses  with 
the  devil's  own  glee  a  thousand  victims  into 
perdition  with  every  revolution  of  this  great 
planet  about  its  greater  sun? 

"Men  of  Barton,  say  what  we  will,  we  are 
the  authors  of  this  dreadful  disaster.  And  if 
we  sorrow  as  a  community,  we  sorrow  in  real- 
ity for  our  own  selfish  act.  And  oh,  the  selfish- 
ness of  it!  That  clamoring  greed  for  money! 
That  burning  thirst  for  more,  and  more,  and 
more,  at  the  expense  of  every  God-like  quality, 
at  the  ruin  of  all  that  our  mothers  once  prayed 
might  belong  to  us  as  men  and  women.  What 
is  it,  ye  merchants,  ye  business  men,  here  to- 
night, that  ye  struggle  most  over?  The  one 
great  aim  of  your  lives  is  to  buy  for  as  little  as 
possible  and  sell  for  as  much  as  possible.  What 
care  have  ye  for  the  poor  who  work  at  worse 
than  starvation  wages,  so  long  as  ye  can  buy 
cheap  and  sell  at  large  profits?  What  is  the 
great  aim  of  us  railroad  men  in  the  great  whirl 


178           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

of  commercial  competition  which  seethes  and 
boils  and  surges  about  this  earth  like  another 
atmosphere,  plainly  visible  to  the  devils  of  other 
worlds  ?  What  is  our  aim  but  to  make  money 
our  god,  and  power  our  throne?  How  much 
care  or  love  is  there  for  flesh  and  blood  at  times 
when  there  is  danger  of  losing  almighty  dollars  ? 
But  0  Almighty.  Savior!  It  was  not  for  this 
that  we  were  made !  We  know  it  was  not. 

"To  whom  am  I  speaking  ?  To  myself.  God 
forbid  that  I  should  stand  here  to  condemn  you, 
being  myself  the  chief  of  sinners  for  these 
twenty-five  years.  What  have  I  done  to  bless 
this  community?  How  much  have  I  cared  for 
the  men  in  my  employ?  What  difference  did  it 
make  to  me  that  my  example  drove  men  away 
from  the  church  of  Christ  and  caused  anguish 
to  those  few  souls  who  were  trying  to  redeem 
humanity?  To  my  just  shame  I  make  answer 
that  no  one  thing  has  driven  the  engine  of  my 
existence  over  the  track  of  its  destiny  except 
self.  And  oh,  for  that  church  of  Christ  that  I 
professed  to  believe  in !  How  much  have  I  done 
for  that?  How  much,  0  fellow-members  (and 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  17!) 

I  see  many  of  you  here  to-night),  how  much 
have  we  done  in  the  best  cause  ever  known,  and 
the  greatest  organization  ever  founded  for  the 
purpose  of  redeeming  the  earth?  We  go  to 
church  after  reading  the  Sunday  morning 
paper,  saturated  through  and  through  with  the 
same  things  we  have  had  poured  into  us  every 
day  of  the  week,  as  if  we  begrudged  the  whole 
of  one  day  out  of  seven,  and  we  criticize  prayer 
and  hymn  and  sermon  and  think  we  have  done 
our  duty  as  Christians,  dropping  into  the  con- 
tribution box  half  the  amount  we  paid  during 
the  week  for  a  theatre  or  concert  ticket,  and 
then  when  anything  goes  wrong  in  the  com- 
munity, or  our  children  fall  into  vice,  scoring 
the  church  for  weakness  and  the  preacher  for 
lack  of  ability.  Shame  on  us,  men  of  Barton, 
members  of  the  church  of  Christ,  that  we  have 
so  neglected  our  own  church  prayer  meeting, 
that  out  of  a  resident  membership  of  more 
than  four  hundred,  living  in  easy  distance 
of  the  church,  only  sixty  have  attended 
regularly  and  over  two  hundred  have  been 
to  that  service  only  occasionally.  And  yet, 


180           Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

\ve  call  ourselves  disciples  of  Christ.  We 
say  wo  believe  in  His  blessed  teachings.  We 
say  we  believe  in  prayer.  And  in  the  face 
of  all  these  professions  we  turn  our  backs  with 
indifference  on  the  very  means  of  spiritual 
growth  and  power  which  the  church  places 
within  our  reach.  If  Christ  were  to  come  to 
the  earth  to-day  he  would  say  unto  us,  'Woe 
unto  you,  church  members,  hypocrites!'  He 
would  say  unto  us,  'Woe  unto  you,  young  dis- 
ciples in  name,  who  have  promised  to  love  and 
serve  me  and  then,  ashamed  of  testifying  before 
men,  have  broken  promise  and  prayer,  and  ridi- 
cule those  who  have  kept  their  vows  sacredly!' 
He  would  say  to  us  men  who  have  made  money 
and  kept  it  to  ourselves,  'Woe  unto  you,  ye 
rich  men,  who  dress  softly  and  dine  luxuriously 
and  live  in  palaces  while  the  poor  cry  aloud 
for  judgment  and  the  laborer  sweats  for  the 
luxury  of  the  idle.  Woe  unto  you  who  specu- 
late in  flesh  and  blood,  and  call  no  man  brother 
unless  he  lives  in  as  fine  a  house  and  has  as 
much  money  in  the  bank.  Therefore  ye  shall 
receive  the  greater  condemnation!' 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  181 

"0  self!  God  of  the  earth  yet!  With  two 
thousand  years  of  the  Son  of  God  written  into 
its  history,  still  goes  up  the  cry  of  those  who 
perish  with  hunger,  who  break  into  the  sanc- 
tuary of  their  souls,  because  they  cannot  get 
work  to  do  and  are  weary  of  the  struggle  of  ex- 
istence. Self!  Thou  art  king.  Not  Jesus 
Christ  yet.  But  oh,  for  the  shame  of  it!  The 
shame  of  it !  Were  it  not  for  the  belief  in  the 
mighty  forgiveness  of  sins  I  would  stand  here 
to-night  with  no  hope  of  ever  seeing  the  para- 
dise of  God.  But  resting  in  that  hope  I  wish 
to  say  to  you  who  have  beheld  the  example  of 
iny  selfish  life,  I  repudiate  it  all.  In  the  world 
I  have  passed  as  a  moral  citizen  and  a  good 
business  man.  In  society  there  has  been  no 
objection  to  my  presence,  on  account  of  my 
wealth  and  position.  In  the  church  I  have  been 
tolerated  because  I  gave  it  financial  support. 
But  in  the  sight  of  that  perfect  Crucified  Lamb 
of  God  I  have  broken  the  two  greatest  laws 
"which  He  ever  announced,  I  have  been  a  sinner 
of  the  deepest  dye.  I  have  been  everything  ex- 
cept a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  prayed  for 


162          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

mercy.  I  believe  rny  prayer  has  been  answered. 
I  am  conscious  that  some  here  present  may 
think  that  what  I  have  said  has  been  in  poor 
taete,  or  that  it  has  been  an  affront  to  the  ob- 
ject of  the  meeting  or  an  insult  to  the  feelings 
of  those  who  have  called  the  audience  together. 
"In  order  that  the  people  may  know  that  I 
am  sincere  in  all  I  have  said,  I  will  say  that  I 
have  placed  in  the  bank  the  sum  of  $10,000  to 
be  used  as  the  committee  may  deem  wisest  and 
best  in  the  education  of  children  in  bereaved 
homes  or  in  any  way  that  shall  be  for  the  best 
good  of  those  in  need.  This  money  is  God's. 
I  have  robbed  Him  and  my  brother  man  :>.!! 
these  years.  Whatever  restitution  I  can  make 
in  the  next  few  days  I  desire  to  make.  But  the 
great  question  with  us  all,  my  friends,  is  not 
this  particular  disaster.  That  will  in  time  take 
its  place  as  one  event  out  of  thousands  in  the 
daily  life  of  this  world.  The  great  event  of 
existence  is  not  death,  it  is  life.  And  the  great 
question  of  the  world  is  not  the  tariff,  nor  the 
silver  question,  nor  the  labor  question,  nor  tem- 
perance, nor  this  and  that  and  the  other.  The 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          133 

great  question  of  the  whole  world  is  Selfishness 
in  the  heart  of  man.  The  great  command  is, 
'Seek  ye  first  the  Kingdom  of  God.'  If  we  had 
done  that  in  this  town  I  believe  such  a  physical 
disaster  as  the  one  we  lament  would  never  have 
happened.  That  is  our  great  need.  If  we  go 
home  from  this  meeting  resolved  to  rebuke  our 
selfishness  in  whatever  form  it  is  displeasing 
to  God,  and  if  we  begin  to-morrow  to  act  out 
that  resolution  in  word  and  deed,  we  shall  revo- 
lutionize this  town  in  its  business,  its  politics, 
its  church,  its  schools,  its  homes.  If  we  simply 
allow  our  emotions  to  be  stirred,  our  sympathies 
to  be  excited  to  the  giving  of  a  little  money  on 
this  occasion,  it  will  do  us  and  the  community 
little  permanent  good.  God  wants  a  complete 
transformation  in  the  people  of  this  nation. 
Nothing  less  than  a  complete  regeneration  can 
save  us  from  destruction.  TJnconsecrated,  self- 
ish money,  and  selfish  education,  and  selfish 

political  power,  and  selfish  genius  in  art,  letters 

, 

and  diplomacy  will  sink  us  as  a  people  into  a 
gulf  of  annihilation.    There  is  no  salvation  for 


184          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

us  except  in  Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  believe  ID 
Him  and  live  in  Him. 

"I  have  said  my  message.  I  trust  you  have 
understood  it.  I  would  not  say  otherwise  if  I 
knew  that  I  would  step  off  this  platform  now 
and  stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ. 
God  help  us  all  to  do  our  duty.  Time  is  short, 
eternity  is  long.  Death  is  nothing.  Life  is 
everything." 

Five  years  after  this  speech  of  Robert  Hardy 
to  the  people  of  Barton  in  the  Town  Hall,  one 
who  was  present  in  the  audience  described  the 
sensation  that  passed  through  it  when  the 
speaker  sat  down,  to  be  like  a  distinct  electric 
shock  which  passed  from  seat  to  seat,  and  held 
the  people  fixed  and  breathless  there  as  if  they 
had  been  smitten  into  images  of  stone.  The 
effect  on  the  chairman  of  the  meeting  was  the 
same.  He  sat  motionless.  Then  a  wave  of 
emotion  gradually  stirred  the  audience,  and 
without  a  word  of  dismission  they  poured  out 
of  the  building  and  scattered  to  their  homes. 

Robert  found  George  waiting  for  him.  The 
father  was  almost  faint  with  the  reaction  from 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          185 

his  address.    George  gave  his  arm  and  the  two 
walked  home  in  silence. 

We  must  pass  over  hastily  the  events  of  the 
next  day  in  Robert  Hardy's  life.  The  whole 
town  was  talking  about  his  surprising  address 
of  the  night  before.  Some  thought  he  was 
crazy.  Others  regarded  him  as  sincere,  but  after 
the  first  effect  of  his  speech  had  worn  off  they 
criticized  him  severely  for  presuming  to  preach 
on  such  an  occasion.  Still  others  were  puzzled 
to  account  for  the  change  in  the  man,  for  that 
a  change  had  taken  place  could  not  be  denied. 
How  slow  men  are  to  acknowledge  the  power  of 
God  in  the  human  heart!  Mr.  Hardy  went 
about  his  business,  very  little  moved  by  all  this 
discussion.  He  realized  that  only  two  more  days 
remained.  He  spent  the  afternoon  and  evening 
at  home  but  was  interrupted  by  several  calls. 
After  tea  the  entire  family  gathered  in  the 
room  where  Clara  lay.  She  still  remained  un- 
conscious, but  living.  As  Mrs.  Hardy  was  say- 
ing something  to  her  husband  about  his  dream 
and  the  events  of  the  day  before,  Clara  sud- 


186  Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Eerily  opened  her  eyes,  and  distinctly  called  out 
the  words, 

"Father!    What  day  is  it?" 

It  was  like  a  voice  out  of  the  long  dead  past. 
Mr.  Hardy,  sitting  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  re- 
plied quietly,  while  his  heart  beat  quick, 

"This  is  Friday  night,  dear  child." 

Another  question  came,  uttered  in  the  same 
strange  voice, 

"Father,  how  many  more  days  are  left  for 
you  ?" 

"To-morrow  and  Sunday." 

The  voice  came  again. 

"I  shall  go  with  you  then." 

The  eyes  closed  and  the  form  became  mo- 
tionless as  before.  It  was  very  quiet  in  the 
room  at  the  close  of  Robert  Hardy's  Fifth  Day. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  187 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  SIXTH    DAY — SATURDAY. 

Those  words  of  Clara's,  "I  shall  go  with  you 
then,"  filled  the  family  with  dismay.  Mr. 
Hardy  bowed  his  head  and  groaned.  Mrs. 
Hardy,  almost  beside  herself  with  grief  and 
terror,  flew  to  the  side  of  the  girl,  and  with  be- 
seeching cries  and  caresses  tried  to  bring  back 
to  consciousness  the  mind  that  for  a  moment 
or  two  had  gleamed  with  reason  and  then  had 
gone  back  into  the  obscurity  and  oblivion  of 
that  mysterious  condition  in  which  it  had  been 
lying  for  three  days.  But  all  in  vain.  The  eyes 
were  closed.  The  form  was  rigid.  The  others, 
George  and  Will  and  Bess,  grew  pale,  and  Bess 
cried  almost  for  the  first  time  since  the  strange 
week  began.  Robert  was  first  to  break  the 
grief  with  a  quiet  word.  He  raised  his  head, 
saying, 

"I  do  not  believe  Clara  is  going  to  die  when 
I  do/' 


188           Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"Why,  father,  what  makes  you  think  that?" 
cried  Alice. 

"I  don't  know;  I  can't  give  any  exact  reason. 
1  only  know  I  don't  believe  it  will  happen." 

"God  grant  that  she  may  be  spared  to  us!" 
said  Mrs.  Hardy.  "0  Robert,  it  is  more  than  I 
can  bear !  Only  to-day  and  to-morrow  left.  It 
can't  be  real.  I  have  battled  against  your 
dream  all  the  week.  It  was  a  dream  only.  I 
will  not  believe  it.  You  are  not  ill.  There  is 
no  indication  that  you  are  going  to  die.  I 
will  not,  I  cannot,  believe  it !  God  is  too  good. 
And  we  need  you  now,  Robert.  Let  us  pray 
God  for  mercy." 

Robert  shook  his  head  sadly  but  firmly. 

"No,  Mary,  I  cannot  resist  an  impression  so 
strong  that  I  cannot  call  it  anything  but  u 
conviction  of  reality  that  somehow,  in  some 
way,  I  shall  be  called  away  from  you  Sunday 
night.  I  have  struggled  against  it,  but  it  grows 
upon  me  even  more  firmly.  God  is  merciful.  I 
do  not  question  His  goodness.  How  much  did 
I  deserve  even  this  week  of  preparation  after 
the  life  I  have  lived  ?  And  the  time  will  not  be 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  18!> 

long  before  we  shall  all  meet  there.  God  grant 
that  it  may  be  an  unbroken  company."  Mr. 
Hardy  spoke  as  any  one  in  his  condition  could. 
The  children  drew  about  him  lovingly.  Be£S 
climbed  into  his  lap.  She  laid  her  face  against 
her  father's  face,  and  the  strong  man  sobbed 
as  he  thought  of  all  the  years  of  neglected  af- 
fection in  that  family  circle.  The  rest  of  the 
evening  was  spent  in  talking  over  the  probable 
future.  George,  who  seemed  thoroughly  hum- 
bled now,  listened  respectfully  and  even  tear- 
fully to  his  father's  counsel  concerning  the  di- 
rection of  business  and  family  matters.  The 
boy  was  going  through  a  struggle  with  himself 
which  was  apparent  to  all  in  the  house.  Ever 
since  his  mother  had  seen  him  kneeling  down 
in  the  night-watch,  he  had  shown  a  different 
spirit.  It  remained  to  be  seen  whether  he  had 
really  changed,  or  whether  he  had  been  for  the 
time  being  frightened  into  a  little  goodness. 

Saturday  morning  found  the  Hardy s  weary 
with  the  agitation  of  the  week,  but  bearing 
about  a  strange  excitement  which  only  the  pros- 
pect of  the  father's  approaching  death  or  re- 


100  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

moval  could  have  produced.  Kobert  could  not 
realize  that  his  week  was  almost  at  an  end. 
Why,  it  seemed  but  yesterday  that  he  had 
dreamed  after  the  Sunday  evening  service!  As 
on  every  other  day,  he  asked  himself  the  ques- 
tion, "What  shall  I  do  ?"  Only  until  he  had 
prayed  could  he  answer  the  question.  Then  the 
light  came.  Who  says  prayer  is  merely  a  form  ? 
It  is  going  to  God  for  wisdom  and  getting  it. 
It  is  crying  out  for  light,  and  lo !  the  darkness 
flees.  It  is  spreading  out  our  troubles  and  our 
joys  and  our  perplexities  and  our  needs,  and 
finding  God  Himself  the  best  possible  answer 
to  them  all.  Robert  Hardy  was  finding  this  out 
lately,  and  it  was  the  one  thing  that  made  pos- 
sible to  him  the  calmness  of  the  last  two  days 
allotted  him. 

The  day  was  spent  in  much  the  same  way 
that  the  other  days  had  been  spent.  He  went 
down  to  his  office  about  ten  o'clock,  and  after 
coming  home  to  lunch  went  down  again,  with 
the  intention  of  getting  through  all  the  busi- 
ness and  returning  home  to  spend  the  rest  of 
the  time  with  the  family.  Along  towards  three 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          191 

o'clock,  when  the  routine  work  of  the  shops 
was  disposed  of,  the  manager  felt  an  irresistible 
desire  to  speak  to  the  men  in  his  employ.  They 
numbered  about  eight  hundred  in  his  depart- 
ment, and  he  knew  how  impossible  it  would  be 
for  him  to  speak  to  them  individually.  He 
thought  a  minute  and  then  called  Burns  in  and 
gave  an  order  that  made  the  foreman  stare  in 
the  most  undisguised  wonder. 

'•'Shut  down  the  works  for  a  little  while,  and 
ask  the  men  to  get  together  in  the  big  machine 
shop.  I  want  to  speak  to  them." 

Burns  had  been  astonished  so  often  this  week 
that  although  he  had  opened  his  mouth  to  say 
something,  he  did  not  seem  able  to  pronounce 
the  word,  and  after  staring  blankly  at  his  em- 
ployer a  minute  he  turned  and  went  out  to 
execute  the  order. 

The  great  engine  was  stopped.  The  men 
from  the  casting-rooms  and  the  carpenter  shops 
and  the  store-rooms  and  the  repairing  depart- 
ments came  trooping  into  the  big  machine  shop, 
and  sat  or  leaned  on  the  great  grim  pieces  of 
machinery,  and  as  the  shop  filled,  the  place 


193  Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

began  to  take  on  a  strange  aspect  never  seen 
there  before.  Mr.  Hardy  crossed  the  yard  from 
the  office,  followed  by  the  clerks  and  assistant 
officers  of  the  road,  all  curious  to  hear  what 
was  coming.  Mr.  Hardy  mounted  one  of  the 
planers  and  looked  about  him.  The  air  was  still 
full  of  gas  and  smoke  and  that  mixture  of  fine 
iron  filings  and  oil  which  are  characteristic  of 
such  places.  The  men  were  quiet  and  respect- 
ful enough.  Many  of  them  had  heard  the  man- 
ager's speech  of  Thursday  night  at  the  Town 
Hall.  Most  of  them  were  aware  that  some 
change  had  taken  place  in  the  man.  It  had 
been  whispered  about  that  he  had  arranged 
matters  for  the  men  injured  in  the  Sunday  ac- 
cident so  that  they  would  not  come  to  want  in 
any  way.  And  now,  that  grimy,  hard-muscled 
hard-featured  crowd  of  eight  hundred  men 
turned  their  eyes  all  upon  the  figure  standing 
very  erect  and  pale-faced  on  the  great  planer, 
and  he  in  turn  looked  out  through  the  blue 
murky  atmosphere  at  them  with  an  intensity 
of  expression  which  none  in  that  audience 
understood.  As  the  man  went  on  with  his 


Bobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          193 

speech  they  began  to  understand  what  that 
look  meant. 

"My  brothers,"  began  the  manager  with  a 
slight  tremble  of  the  syllables  so  new  to  him, 
"as  this  may  be  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  speak 
to  you,  I  want  to  say  what  is  true  to  me  and 
what  I  feel  I  owe  to  you.  For  twenty-five  years 
I  have  carried  on  the  work  in  this  place  without 
any  thought  of  the  eight  hundred  men  at  work 
in  these  shops,  except  as  their  names  were  on 
the  pay  roll  of  the  company.  It  never  made 
any  difference  to  me  when  your  wives  and  chil- 
dren grew  sick  and  died.  I  never  knew  what 
sort  of  houses  you  lived  in,  except  to  know  that 
in  comparison  with  mine  they  must  have  been 
very  crowded  and  uncomfortable.  For  all  these 
twenty-five  years  I  have  been  as  indifferent  to 
you  as  one  man  possibly  could  be  to  men  who 
work  for  him.  It  has  not  occurred  to  me  dur- 
ing this  time  that  I  could  be  anything  else.  I 
have  been  too  selfish  to  see  my  relation  to  you 
and  act  upon  it. 

"Now  I  do  not  call  you  in  here  to-day  to 
apologize  for  twenty-five  years  of  selfishness. 


194           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Not  that  alone.  But  I  do  want  you  to  know 
that  I  had  been  touched  by  the  hand  of  God  in 
such  a  way  that  before  it  is  too  late  I  want  to 
say  to  you  all,  'Brothers,'  and  say  to  you  that 
when  you  think  of  me  hereafter,  it  may  be  as  1 
am  now  to-day,  not  as  I  have  been  all  the  years 
past.  It  is  not  for  me  to  say  how  far  or  in  what 
manner  I  have  trampled  on  the  brotherhood 
of  the  race.  I  have  called  myself  a  Christian. 
I  have  been  a  member  of  a  church.  Yet  I  will 
confess  here  to-day  that  under  the  authority 
granted  me  by  the  company,  I  have  more  than 
once  dismissed  good,  honest,  faithful  workmen 
in  large  bodies,  and  cut  down  wages  unneces- 
sarily to  increase  dividends,  and  in  general,  I 
have  thought  of  the  human  flesh  and  blood  in 
these  shops  as  I  have  thought  of  the  iron  and 
steel  here.  I  confess  all  that  and  more.  What- 
ever has  been  un-Christian  I  hope  will  be  for- 
given. There  are  many  things  we  do  to  our 
fellow-men  in  this  world  which  abide.  The 
sting  of  them  I  mean.  The  impress  of  my  self- 
ishness is  stamped  on  this  place.  It  will  take 
years  to  remove  it.  I  might  have  been  far  more 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  195 

to  you.  I  might  have  raised  ray  voice,  as  a 
Christian  and  an  influential  director  of  this 
road  against  the  Sunday  work  and  traffic.  I 
never  did.  I  might  have  relieved  unnecessary 
discomfort  in  different  departments.  I  refused 
to  do  it.  I  might  have  helped  the  cause  of 
temperance  in  this  town  by  trying  to  banish 
the  saloon.  Instead  of  that  I  voted  to  license 
a  crime  and  poverty  and  disease  establishment. 
I  might  have  used  my  influence  and  my  wealth 
to  build  healthy,  comfortable  homes  for  the 
men  who  work  on  this  road.  I  never  raised  my 
finger  in  the  matter.  I  might  have  helped  to 
make  life  a  happier,  sweeter  thing  to  the  nearly 
one  thousand  souls  in  this  establishment,  and  I 
went  my  selfish  way,  content  with  my  own  lux- 
urious home  and  the  ambition  for  self-culture 
and  the  pride  of  splf-accomplishments.  And 
yet  there  is  not  a  man  here  to-day  who  isn't 
happier  than  I  am. 

"I  wish  you  all  in  the  name  of  the  good  God 
who  forgives  our  sins  for  Jesus's  sake,  the  wish 
of  a  man  who  looks  into  the  other  world  and 
seer  things  as  they  really  are.  I  do  not  wish 


Kobert  Hard's  Seven  Davs. 


you  to  think  of  my  life  as  a  Christian  life.  Tt 
has  not  heen  such.  But  as  you  hope  to  be  for- 
given at  last,  forgive  all  wrongs  at  my  hands. 
You  are  living  in  the  dawn  of  a  happier  day  for 
labor.  There  are  Christian  men  in  this  town, 
and  some  few  connected  with  railroads,  who  are 
trying  to  apply  the  principles  of  Christianity  to 
the  business  and  traffic  of  earth.  My  probable 
successor  in  these  shops  is  such  a  man  in  spirit. 
God  is  love.  I  have  forgotten  that  myself.  I 
have  walked  through  life  forgetful  of  Him.  But 
I  know  to-day  that  He  is  drawing  the  nations 
together  and  the  world  together  in  true  sym- 
pathy. The  nations  that  stand  defiant  and  dis- 
obedient to  God  shall  perish.  The  rulers  who 
haughtily  take  God's  place  and  oppress  the  peo- 
ple shall  be  destroyed.  The  men  of  power  and 
intelligence  and  money  who  use  these  throe 
great  advantages  to  bless  themselves  and  add 
to  their  own  selfish  pleasure  and  ease,  shall  very 
soon  be  dethroned.  I  would  give  all  I  possess 
to  be  able  to  live  and  see  a  part  of  it  come  to 
pass.  Men,  brothers,  some  of  you  younger  ones 
shall  live  to  see  that  day.  Love  God  and  obey 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          197 

Him.  Envy  not  the  rich.  They  are  more  mis- 
erable than  you  sometimes  dream.  True  hap- 
piness consists  in  a  conscience  at  peace  with 
God,  and  a  heart  free  from  selfish  desires  and 
habits.  I  thank  you  for  your  attention.  You 
will  know  better  why  I  have  said  all  this  to  you 
when  you  come  in  here  to  work  again  next  Mon- 
day. My  brothers,  God  bless  you.  God  bless 
us  all !" 

When  Eobert  stepped  down  from  the  planer 
and  started  towards  the  door,  more  than  one 
black  hand  was  thrust  out  into  his  with  the 
words,  "God  bless  you,  sir!"  He  felt  a  strange 
desire  to  weep.  Never  before  had  he  felt  that 
thrill  shoot  through  him  at  the  grasp  of  the 
hand  of  his  brother  man.  His  speech  had  made 
a  profound  impression  on  the  men.  Many  of 
them  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  cer- 
tain sentences.  But  the  spirit  of  the  man  was 
unmistakable  and  the  men  responded  in  a  man- 
nei  that  touched  Mr.  Hardy  very  strongly.  He 
finally  went  into  his  office,  the  big  engine  start- 
ed up  again,  and  the  whirr  and  dust  and  clangor 
of  the  shops  went  on.  But  men  bent  over  their 


198           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

work  there,  in  the  gathering  dusk  of  the  winter 
day  who  felt  a  new  heart-throb  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  pale  face  and  sincere  words  of  the 
man  who  had  broken  a  selfish  silence  of  a  quar- 
ter century  to  call  them  brothers.  0  Robert 
Hardy,  what  glorious  opportunities  you  missed 
to  love  and  be  loved!  With  all  your  wealth 
you  have  been  a  very  poor  man  all  your  life  un- 
til now  on  the  next  to  the  last  day  of  it! 

There  is  little  need  to  describe  the  rest  of 
this  day.  .Robert  went  home.  Every  one  greet- 
ed him  tenderly.  His  first  inquiry  was  about 
Clara.  Still  in  that  trance-like  sleep.  Would 
she  never  wake?  The  wife  shuddered  with 
fear.  Mrs.  Hardy  had  spent  much  of  the  time 
in  prayer  and  tears.  The  evening  sped  by  with- 
out special  incident.  James  Caxton  came  and 
joined  the  family  circle.  His  presence  re- 
minded Mr.  Hardy  of  the  old  quarrel  with  the 
young  man's  father.  He  spoke  to  James  and 
said  if  anything  should  prevent  him  seeing  his 
father  the  next  day,  James  might  tell  his  father 
how  completely  and  sincerely  he  wished  the 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  190 

foolish  quarrel  forgotten  and  his  own  share  in 
it  forgiven. 

So  that  day  came  to  a  close  in  family  confer- 
ence, in  tears,  in  fear  and  hope  and  anxiety  and 
prayer.  But  Mrs.  Hardy  would  not  lose  all 
hope.  It  did  not  seem  to  her  possible  that  her 
husband  could  be  called  away  the  next  night. 


200          .Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 
CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  SEVENTH   DAY — SUNDAY. 

Alice,  with  the  quickness  of  thought  that  al- 
ways characterized  her,  planned  that  all  the 
rest  should  go  to  church  while  she  remained 
with  Clara.  Will  was  able  to  go  out  now.  So, 
for  the  first  time  in  years,  Robert  and  his  wife 
and  Bess  and  the  two  boys  sat  together  in  the 
same  seat.  George  had  not  been  to  church  for 
a  year,  and  Will  was  very  irregular  in  his  at- 
tendance. The  opening  services  seemed  spec- 
ially impressive  and  beautiful  to  Mr.  Hardy. 
He  wondered  how  he  had  ever  dared  sit  and 
criticize  Mr.  Jones  and  the  way  he  had  of  read- 
ing the  hymns.  To  be  sure,  he  was  not  a  per- 
fect speaker,  but  his  love  for  his  people  and  his 
great  love  for  men  and  his  rare  good  life  every 
day  were  all  so  well  known  that  they  ought  to 
have  counted  for  more  than  they  ever  did.  It  is 
astonishing  how  many  good  deeds  and  good  men 
pass  through  this  world  unnoticed  and  unappre- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          201 

elated.  But  every  evil  deed  is  caught  up  and 
magnified  and  criticized  by  press  and  people, 
until  it  seems  as  if  the  world  must  be  a  very 
wicked  place  indeed  and  the  good  people  very 
scarce  indeed. 

Mr.  Hardy  joined  in  the  service  with  a  joy 
unknown  to  him  for  years.  He  had  come  to  it 
from  the  reading  of  his  Bible  instead  of  the 
reading  of  the  morning  paper,  and  from  his 
knees  in  prayer  instead  of  from  thoughts  of  his 
business  or  a  yawning  stroll  through  his  libra- 
ry.^ His  mind  was  receptive  of  the  best  things 
in  the  service.  He  entered  into  it  with  a  solemn 
feeling  that  it  was  his  last.  And  when  the 
minister  gave  out  the  text,  "For  we  must  all 
appear  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ  that 
every  man  may  receive  the  things  done  in  his 
body,  whether  they  be  good  or  bad,"  he  started, 
and  leaned  forward  intently,  feeling  that  the 
message  of  the  preacher  was  for  him  and  him 
alone,  and  strangely  appropriate  for  his  own 
peculiar  condition.  The  first  statement  of  the 
sermon  arrested  his  attention  and  held  him  to 
the  argument  irresistibly  to  the  end. 


202          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

"The  judgment  seat  of  Christ  will  not  be  a 
dreadful  place  to  a  man  whose  sins  have  been 
forgiven  in  this  world.  But  if  he  comes  up  to 
it  seamed  and  scarred  and  stained  with  sins  un- 
repented  of  and  unforgiven  because  he  has  not 
asked  God  to  forgive  him,  it  will  be  a  place  of 
awful  fear  to  his  soul.  There  are  men  here  in 
this  audience  who  are  as  ready  to  die  now  as 
they  ever  will  be.  They  have  made  their  peace 
with  God.  They  have  no  quarrel  with  their 
neighbors.  Their  accounts  are  all  square  in 
business.  They  are  living  in  laving  relations 
•with  the  home  circle.  They  have  no  great  bur- 
dens of  remorse  or  regret  weighing  them  down. 
And  if  God  should  call  them  this  minute  to  step 
tip  to  the  judgment  seat  they  would  be  ready. 

"But  there  are  other  men  here  who  are  not 
at  all  ready  for  such  a  tremendous  event.  They 
may  think  they  are,  but  they  are  mistaken. 
How  can  they  stand  before  the  greatest  Being 
in  all  the  universe  and  have  no  fear,  when  they 
are  unprepared  to  answer  His  questions,  'Why 
did  you  not  confess  Me  before  men  ?  Why  did 
jou  not  do  as  I  commanded  and  bear  the  bur- 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  203 

clens  of  the  weak  instead  of  pleasing  yourself?' 
What  will  the  man  say  then?  It  is  true  that 
Christ  is  all-merciful,  all-loving. 

"But  will  it  make  no  difference  with  a  soul 
whether  it  comes  up  to  His  judgment  seat  out 
of  a  life  of  selfish  ease  and  indulgence  or  out  of 
a  life  of  self -sacrifice  and  restraint?  When 
every  possible  offer  of  mercy  is  held  out  to  men 
on  earth  and  they  will  not  accept  it,  will  it  be 
all  the  same  as  if  they  had,  when  they  come 
before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ  ?  Why,  that 
would  be  to  mock  at  the  meaning  of  the  Incar- 
nation and  the  Atonement.  It  would  be  to  cast 
scorn  and  contempt  on  the  agony  in  the  Garden 
and  the  Crucifixion.  It  would  make  unneces- 
sary all  the  prayer  and  preaching.  What  possi- 
ble need  is  there  that  men  preach  a  gospel  of 
salvation  unless  there  is  danger  of  the  opposite  ? 
If  we  are  all  going  to  be  saved  anyway,  no  mat- 
ter whether  we  accept  God's  love  in  Christ  or 
not,  what  use  is  the  church  and  why  should  wo 
be  anxious  any  more  about  our  children,  and 
what  difference  does  it  make  whether  they  go 
to  the  bad  here  in  this  world,  if  in  the  world 


204          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

to  come  they  will  all  be  saved?  For  eternity 
will  be  so  much  grander  and  sweeter  and  endur- 
ing than  time  that  we  might  as  well  take  it  easy 
here  and  not  pay  much  attention  to  the  mes- 
sage 'God  so  loved  the  world/  that  is,  if  we  are 
going  to  be  saved  anyway. 

"And  why  should  we  care  very  much  if  it 
does  say  in  the  revelation  of  God's  Word  that 
the  wicked  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  pun- 
ishment, if  we  don't  believe  it?  Why,  the 
wicked  will  stand  just  as  good  a  chance  of  eter- 
nal glory  as  the  good,  if  the  judgment  seat  of 
Christ  does  not  mean  a  separation  of  the  good 
from  the  bad.  Let  us  close  our  churches  and 
go  home.  Let  us  eat  and  drink  and  dance  and 
be  merry  for  to-morrow  we  die,  and  after  death 
the  judgment,  and  after  the  judgment  glory, 
and  joy,  and  power,  and  peace  and  life  eternal 
in  the  presence  of  God.  It  is  true  we  scorned 
Him  on  earth,  but  that  won't  make  any  differ- 
ence, He  will  receive  us  just  the  same.  It  is 
true  we  refused  to  believe  in  His  only  begotten 
Son  after  all  He  suffered  of  shame  and  agony 
for  u?,  but  that  makes  no  difference,  He  will 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  205 

say,  'Enter  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord.'  It  is  true 
we  made  fun  of  Christians,  and  mocked  at 
prayer,  and  sneered  at  faith,  but  that  is  not 
much  to  be  afraid  of.  It  is  true  we  hated  our 
neighbor  and  would  not  forgive  an  insult,  but 
that's  a  little  thing.  It  is  true  when  the  Holy 
Spirit  pleaded  with  us  a  year  or  six  months  ago 
to  confess  Christ  in  public,  we  told  Him  to 
leave  us,  we  were  ashamed  to  do  it  in  the  pres- 
ence of  men,  to  confess  Him  who  spread  out 
His  arms  on  a  cross  of  bitterest  agony  for  us; 
but  for  all  that  we  feel  sure  that  when  we 
march  up  to  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ  He  will 
treat  us  just  the  same  as  He  treats  His  disciples 
who  have  laid  down  their  lives  for  the  Master. 
Then  let  us  tear  out  of  the  Bible  every  line  that 
speaks  of  retribution  or  punishment  or  judg- 
ment, for  we  don't  like  those  passages,  they 
hurt  our  feelings,  and  let  us  leave  only  those 
words  that  speak  of  love,  and  mercy,  and  for- 
giveness, for  those  words  are  the  only  ones  that 
can  be  true,  for  those  words  don't  make  us  feel 
uncomfortable.  Away  with  everything  that 
hurts  our  feelings,  that  makes  us  anxious,  that 


206          Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

sends  us  to  our  knees  in  prayer,  that  makes  us 
confess  Christ  and  live  a  life  of  self-denial  and 
service;  for  when  the  judgment  seat  is  pre- 
pared and  Christ  sits  down  there  and  we  appear 
before  Him,  He  will  receive  us  just  as  we  come 
before  Him,  the  pure,  and  the  impure,  and  the 
selfish,  and  the  proud,  and  the  humble,  and  the 
believing,  and  the  disbelieving,  and  infidels, 
and  scoffers,  and  cowards,  and  despisers  of 
God's  love  on  the  earth,  and  all  the  class  of  men 
who  fell  back  on  weak  and  imperfect  Christians 
for  their  own  weak  lives,  and  the  drunkards, 
and  the  liars,  and  the  oppressors  of  the  poor, 
and  everybody  who  heard  a  thousand  sermons 
full  of  gospel  and  despised  them  because  of 
some  imperfection  in  the  delivery  or  elo- 
cution, and  all  those  men  who  went 
through  the  earth  life  betrayers  of  the 
home,  and  the  selfish  politicians  who  be- 
trayed their  country,  and  all  the  men 
who  read  the  Bible  and  believed  only  the  parts 
that  didn't  hurt  their  sensitive  feelings,  and  all 
the  young  men  who  lived  fast  lives  and  sowed 
wild  oats  because  a  wicked  and  false  public  sen- 


Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          207 

timent  made  them  think  it  was  excusable  and 
perhaps  necessary,  and  every  other  man  and 
M'oman  who  lived  as  he  pleased  regardless  of 
God  and  Eternity:  when  all  these  shall  appear 
before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ  He  will  be- 
hold them,  all  as  one  soul,  and  with  a  smile  of 
gracious  pardon  He  will  reach  out  His  almighty 
arm  and  sweep  them  all  alike  into  a  Heaven  of 
eternal  bliss,  there  to  reign  with  Him  in  glory 
and  power,  world  without  end! 

"But  is  this  what  Christ  taught  the  world? 
Suppose  what  we  have  said  is  true,  it  turns  His 
whole  life  into  a  splendid  mockery.  Foolishness 
and  absurdity  could  go  no  further  than  to  cre- 
ate a  life  like  His  and  put  into  His  mouth  such 
teachings  as  we  have  received,  if  at  the  judg- 
ment seat  all  souls,  regardless  of  their  acts  in 
this  world,  are  received  on  an  equal  footing  and 
all  received  into  eternal  life.  And  where  is 
there  any  room  in  the  teachings  of  Christ  for  a 
purgatory?  Do  we  believe  that  ?  Is  it  not  the 
plain  teaching  that  after  the  judgment  the 
destiny  of  souls  is  fixed  forever? 

•'Tint  what  could  man  wish  more?     Will  he 


208           Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

not  have  opportunity  enough  to  accept  the 
mercy  of  God  before  that  time?  Does  he  not 
have  opportunity?  If  any  soul  appears  at  last 
and  at  the  judgment  complains  that  he  did  not 
have  a  fair  chance,  will  that  gracious  Judge 
condemn  him  if  his  complaint  is  true?  We 
know  He  will  not.  But  the  facts  of  the  judg- 
ment are  these:  At  that  time,  whenever  it  is, 
the  souls  of  men  will  have  passed  upon  them 
for  their  acts  in  the  earth  life  a  verdict  that 
will  determine  their  everlasting  destiny.  And 
that  verdict  will  be  just  and  it  will  be  merciful. 
For  the  Crucified  One  could  not  do  otherwise. 
But  the  men  who  have  despised  and  neglected 
and  disbelieved  and  have  not  confessed  shall  be 
separated  from  Him  forever.  And  the  men  who 
have  confessed  and  believed  and  tried  to  live 
like  Him  shall  be  in  His  presence  continually. 
There  will  be  a  division  of  souls.  It  will  not  be 
based  on  wealth  or  position  or  birth  or  educa- 
tion or  genius,  but  on  Christ-likeness,  on  that 
divine  and  eternal  thing  we  call  character. 
Everything  else  shall  go  away  into  destruction, 
into  death,  into  punishment,  into  banishment 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.           209 

from  God.  And  banishment  from  God  will  be 
hell,  and  it  will  be  a  hell  not  made  by  God  but 
by  man  himself,  who  had  an  opportunity,  nay, 
a  thousand  opportunities  every  day  of  his  life 
to  accept  the  bliss  of  Heaven,  and  of  his  own 
selfish  choice  rejected  every  one  of  them  and 
went  to  his  own  place. 

"But  some  soul  starts  up  and  says,  'You  are 
not  preaching  the  gospel.  You  are  preaching 
fear,  hell,  torments.  Is  this  your  boasted  love 
of  God?'  Yes,  for  what  am  I  preaching  if  not 
the  love  of  God,  when  I  say,  'God  so  loved  the 
world  that  He  gave  His  only  begotten  Son  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not  perish 
but  have  everlasting  life'?  Is  there  no  danger 
of  perishing?  Why  did  Christ  come  then? 
Why  did  He  say  the  things  He  did  ?  Why  did 
He  speak  of  the  condemnation  of  the  wicked 
and  unbelieving  if  that  was  not  a  part  of  the 
gospel  ?  The  gospel  is  glad  tidings.  But  what 
makes  it  glad  tidings?  Because  of  the  danger 
we  are  in.  What  is  salvation  ?  It  is  the  oppo- 
site of  being  lost.  We  cannot  have  one  without 
the  other.  So  I  am  preaching  the  gospel  here 


210           Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

to-day  when  I  say,  'We  must  all  appear  before 
the  judgment  seat  of  Christ !'  There  will  be  no 
fear  to  us  then  if  we  believe  in  Him,  if  we  have 
lived  His  life  here,  if  the  things  done  in  the 
body  are  good.  And  more  than  that.  As  long  as 
this  earth  life  continues,  God's  mercy  is  with  us 
every  moment.  It  is  possible  some  soul  is  here 
who  for  years  has  lived  selfishly  within  his  own 
little  toys  of  pleasure.  He  looks  back  on  a  life 
of  uselessness,  of  neglect  of  all  that  Christ  did 
for  him.  He  this  day  hears  the  voice  of  God. 
He  listens;  he  repents;  he  cries  out,  smiting 
on  his  breast,  'God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!' 
And  then  what  will  God  do?  Will  he  reject 
him  because  he  is  old  in  sin,  because  he  has 
wasted  beautiful  years?  When  he  appears  be- 
fore the  judgment  seat  will  Christ  sa}r,  'You  re- 
pented too  late  on  earth.  You  cannot  be  saved 
now'?  No!  Even  if  after  a  hundred  years  of 
shame  and  sin  a  soul  with  its  outgoing  breath. 
in  genuine  repentance  and  faith  in  the  Son  of 
God,  cried  out  for  mercy,  that  cry  would  be 
answered  and  he  would  be  saved.  What  less  of 
glory  and  power  such  a  soul  might  experience 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          211 

in  the  realms  of  glory,  we  may  not  be  able  to 
tell.    But  he  himself  would  be  saved. 

"Is  not  God  merciful  then  ?  Let  no  man  de- 
part from  this  house  of  God  fearful  or  despair- 
ing. The  earthly  life  is  full  from  beginning  to 
close  with  the  love  of  an  Almighty  Father. 
Shall  men  complain  because  they  cannot  have 
all  of  this  life  and  all  the  other  too  in  which  to 
repent  and  be  forgiven?  'Now  is  the  accepted 
time,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation.  To-day  if 
ye  will  hear  His  voice  harden  not  your  hearts/ 
Men  of  Barton,  you  have  heard  the  word  of  God 
proclaimed  here  from  this  desk  to-day.  Young 
men,  will  you  wait  until  you  are  old  in  sin  and 
shame  before  you  will  repent  and  be  saved? 
And  how  do  you  know  you  will  live  to  be  old 
men?  And  what  a  life  to  live  even  if  you  were 
sure  of  a  hundred  years,  to  pour  out  the  dregs 
at  last  as  an  offering  to  Christ  jiist  to  escape 
hell !  0  all  men,  hear  ye  this  day  the  message 
of  Christ.  He  is  a  Savior  of  sinners.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  any  man  go  away  from  this  ser-  ' 
vice  unsaved.  You  may  believe  here  and  now. 
Won't  you  do  it?  'Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 


212          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

Christ  and  thou  shalt  be  saved.'  And  then  go 
home  and  pray  rejoicing.  And  if  the  Almighty 
calls  you  out  and  away  from  this  prison  of  clay 
into  his  resplendent  presence  this  very  night 
what  will  yon  have  to  fear?  Not  one  thing. 
You  have  put  your  trust  in  Him.  Your  sins 
are  all  forgiven.  You  can  appear  before  His 
judgment  seat  and  await  your  verdict  vrith  a 
calm  and  joyful  soul.  For  you  know  as  you 
gaze  into  the  loving  countenance  of  your  Re- 
deemer and  Judge  that  when  He  turns  and 
speaks  to  you  He  will  say,  'Come,  ye  beloved  of 
My  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.'  Truly 
God  is  Love." 

The  prayer  that  followed  the  sermon  seemed 
to  bring  all  the  souls  in  the  church  very  close  to 
God.  The  events  of  the  past  week  had  stirred 
the  town  deeply.  The  awful  disaster  so  near 
them,  the  speech  of  Mr.  Hardy  in  the  Town 
Hall,  rumors  of  the  experience  he  was  having, 
all  this  had  prepared  the  audience  for  just  such 
a  sermon  on  Sunday  morning.  And  men  bowed 


Eobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.          213 

their  heads  and  prayed  in  that  house  who  had 
not  done  such  a  thing  sincerely  in  many  years. 

Robert  had  many  inquiries  concerning  him- 
self and  Clara  to  answer  at  the  close  of  the  ser- 
vice. He  finally  went  up  and  thanked  the  min- 
ister for  what  he  had  said  and  spoke  as  he  never 
had  spoken  before,  in  encouragement  of  his 
pastor's  work.  But  it  seemed  to  him  he  must 
be  getting  home.  The  time  was  growing  short. 
He  must  have  the  rest  of  it  with  the  dear  ones 
in  the  home. 

What  need  to  describe  the  details  of  the 
afternoon?  Robert  Hardy  had  the  joy  of 
knowing  that  all  his  children  were  with  him, 
and  at  dark  James  came  over  and  asked  if  he 
might  join  the  circle.  He  did  not  know  all  that 
Mr.  Hardy  had  gone  through,  but  the  children 
had  told  him  enough  to  make  him  want  to  be 
with  the  family. 

"Why,  come  right  in  and  join  the  circle, 
Jim,  you're  one  of  us,"  cried  Mr.  Hardy  cheer- 
fully. So  Jim  drew  up  his  chair  and  the  con- 
versation went  on.  They  were  sitting  in  the 
.upstairs  room  where  Clara  lay  and  facing  an 


214          Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

open  fire.  The  doctor  had  called  in  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  and  brought  two  other  skilled 
surgeons  and  physicians,  at  Mr.  Hardy's  request. 
It  was  a  singular  case  and  nothing  special  could 
be  done.  That  was  the  unanimous  opinion  after 
deep  consultation,  and  after  remaining  some 
time  the  doctors  had  withdrawn. 

When  it  grew  dark  Alice  started  to  turn  on 
the  lights,  but  her  father  said,  "Let  us  sit  in 
the  firelight."  So  they  drew  close  together  and 
in  awe  looked  upon  him  who  seemed  so  sure 
that  God  would  call  him  away  at  midnight. 
Who  shall  recount  the  words  that  were  uttered  ? 
The  exact  sentences  spoken?  The  fears,  and 
hopes,  and  petitions,  and  tears  of  the  wife? 
The  commands  of  the  father  to  his  boys  to  grow 
up  into  the  perfect  manhood  in  Jesus  Christ? 
The  sweet  words  of  love  and  courage  that 
passed  between  him  and  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters? These  things  cannot  be  described,  they 
can  only  be  imagined.  And  so  the  night  passed. 
It  was  after  eleven  o'clock  when  the  conversa- 
tion had  almost  ceased  and  all  were  sitting 
hushed  in  a  growing  silence  that  Clara  again 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days.  215 

spoke,  so  suddenly  and  clearly  that  they  were 
all  startled  and  awed  by  it: 

"Father!  Mother!  Where  have  I  been?  [ 
have  had  such  a  dream!  Where  are  you? 
Where  am  I?" 

Mrs.  Hardy  arose  and  with  tears  streaming 
down  her  face  kneeled  beside  the  bed  and  in  a 
few  words  recalled  Clara  to  her  surroundings. 
The  girl  had  come  out  of  her  strange  uncon- 
sciousness with  all  her  faculties  intact.  Grad- 
ually she  recalled  the  past,  the  accident,  the 
dream  of  her  father.  She  smiled  happily  on 
them  all  and  they  for  awhile  forgot  the  ap- 
proach of  midnight  and  its  possible  meaning  to 
Mr.  Hardy.  All  but  himself.  He  kneeled  by 
the  bed,  by  the  side  of  his  wife,  and  thanked 
God  that  his  dear  one  was  restored.  Suddenly 
he  rose  to  his  feet  and  spoke  aloud,  quietly,  but 
clearly,  "Did  you  not  hear  some  one  calling?" 
His  face  was  pale  but  peaceful.  He  bent  down 
and  kissed  Clara,  embraced  hie  sons,  drew  his 
wife  to  him  and  placed  his  band  on  Bessie's 
head,  then,  as  if  in  answer  to  a  command  he 
gently  kneeled  down  again  by  his  chair  and  as 


216          Kobert  Hardy's  Seven  Days. 

his  lips  moved  in  prayer  the  clock  struck  once 
more  the  hour  of  twelve.  And  he  continued 
kneeling  there.  And  he  was  nearer  God  than 
he  had  ever  been  all  his  life  before.  And  thus 
Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days  came  to  an  end. 

THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


